Heroes
by JasoTheArtisan
Summary: Follow up to "Anonymous". Soul Society has fallen. The surviving Shinigami are scattered throughout the Human World, waiting for the chance to retake their home. While in Hueco Mundo, rebels seek to revive the embers of their vengeance.
1. Prologue: Asbeel

_**Prologue:**_

_**Asbeel**_

_**Pop.**_

Yusuf Abaza looked up from his meal, his dark eyes scanning the desert horizon from underneath his curly black bangs. A light breeze slipped into the small shack where he was eating his breakfast and he instinctively turned to face over his shoulder, his brown cheeks relaxing as the cool wind pushed in from the Red Sea. He sighed as the gust stopped and the room became completely silent. He returned to his beans and onions.

He couldn't tell which way the sounds of the gunfire had come from. The desert and the sea were both blowing at each other today and Yusuf, while thankful for the breezes, was getting confused. He had several deliveries to run today and had so far completely wasted his morning, as he was forced to listen for the skirmishes. He didn't want to head north if the Jordanians were attacking.

_**Pop. Pop.**_

His head jerked up at the sound. It was faint, but it definitely came from the south. Yusuf smiled; the Egyptians were fighting to the south and, from the sound of it, they weren't anywhere nearby. In fact, none of the other people in the restaurant had even reacted to the sound of gunfire. Yusuf smiled and thanked Allah for such good hearing.

He scooped the last bits of _ful medammas _into his mouth and pushed his plate up onto the counter. He placed a few _shekalim _next to his plate and stepped away from the stool he'd been sitting on for the past hour. He grabbed the package he'd brought with him – he knew a few powerful men that would be extremely upset if he didn't deliver it soon.

"_Ma'a as-salaamah," _he muttered in departure as he walked out onto the sandy streets of Eilat.

Yusuf hated being in Israel. It had nothing to do with the people, he got along with the Israelis just fine. Israel was simply not his country. He'd first come here two years ago on a visit to some family in the _Naqab _when the Egyptian border suddenly exploded into a battle zone, blocking him from his home country. Nobody knew exactly what happened, but several temples and mosques had suddenly been destroyed. The locals claimed that it had been the Egyptians who'd struck first, but Yusuf had seen plenty of anti-Arab sentiment in his time here and decided to reserve his opinions. He tried his best to stay out of the debates. He just wanted to go back home.

He turned and headed north. He smiled lightly as another small gust of wind peeled off the sea to his right and slid through his curly hair.

_**Pop!**_

Yusuf ducked his head at the sound. After a brief moment, he stood again and looked around. That gunshot had been far closer than he'd calculated back in the restaurant. It sounded as though it had come from only a street over. He looked around and saw two old women, dressed in all black. They both walked along as though nothing had happened, neither of them showing any worry in their wrinkled faces. Yusuf recovered and walked along, saddened at how gunfire and fear were now a daily part of his life. He wondered when he would become as desensitized to it as the two old women, dressed in black, looking at dead fish.

His mind began to drift to the stories of the borders, of how people would go out into the desert and never return. As always, the accusations were flung out from every side of the city. Jordanian soldiers killed you at the north border and Egyptians killed you south or those acclaimed Israeli pilots took you out in secret fighter jets that made no noise when they snuck up on you.

As ridiculous as all that seemed, he'd heard even crazier tales come in from the deserts.

There was the one man who came into town from near the southern border, his face drenched in blood and his clothes in tatters. He was screaming about a demon, an _Ahemait _that had appeared from the sands and devoured his family and his herd. He was delirious with dehydration. Two men eventually had to drag him to the hospital to keep him alive, but he kicked and cried the whole way, babbling on about monsters.

Another woman claimed that she had seen another monster rise from the ocean one evening before prayer. She claimed that it had lumbered towards her when a man rescued her. Out of pious fear, she wouldn't give much more detail than that. A monster and a savior.

Most townsfolk didn't believe in any voodoo demons like that, but the typical marketplace discussion always seemed to turn to the newest paranormal reports. More and more tales were being passed through the grapevines, and more people were beginning to believe that the stories were true. But Yusuf considered them all nonsense; some sort of hysteria was rippling through the city and he wouldn't be surprised if some doctor had already classified it as a form of cabin fever. Unless you could afford a boat or plane ticket out of the city, you were stuck within its borders. With most of the population consisting of trapped nomads, two years in the same city would easily bring out the crazy in some people.

He turned down an alleyway to his left, immediately enjoying the shade provided by the buildings. He was already making good time with this one delivery. He could probably make another two before the hour was up and hopefully get himself back on schedule.

_**Pop.**_

The sound wasn't far away this time.

It was right over his left shoulder.

Yusuf Abaza's heart almost stopped pumping in his chest. His body was tingling; it truly felt as though his blood had become frigid within his body. The sound hadn't been a gunshot after all. It sounded like a child popping a bubble, but it was much deeper. It had to have come from something much larger than a simple soap-bubble. He could feel the size of whatever had made the noise. He didn't know how he could feel it, but he could. It was something very large.

And it was right behind him.

He began to turn but stopped as his eyes caught their first glimpse at the monster behind him. He couldn't see much of it – it was far too big and far too close. He could really only see a sliver out of the corner of his eyes. But he could _hear _it. It was slobbering like a beast behind him, each breath making small popping noises.

Yusuf began to run away from it as fast as he could.

His mind was blank as he sprinted down the alleyway. He knew he wanted to scream for help, but he couldn't. The thing was directly behind him, somehow touching him, somehow forcing his voice to remain crammed down his throat. He dropped the parcel from his left hand, his mind absurdly nagging at him to turn around and pick it back up, that his employers would be furious if it was left behind. Yusuf didn't care. His chest was burning and his legs were starting to tire and his mind was racing as the monster behind him grew louder and closer and it seemed to want to swallow him up within itself and for the two of them to become one single beast in hunger.

Yusuf burst out from the alleyway into an open plaza, tripping onto his face as he missed the step-down of the curb. His ankle exploded in pain as he struggled to stand again, the weight he'd forced on it causing it to roll inwards. He fell once more and looked at his foot, grimacing at how twisted it looked at the end of his leg. There was no way he could run now.

The monster's shadow spread out over him.

Yusuf looked up in fear at the beast. It was almost transparent, a dark and nebulous cloud taking the form of something wicked and vile in front of him. It was twice as tall as he was, the torso containing a large hole where his own head would come up to if he could stand against it.

He looked around frantically at the people that filled the square, dismayed at how nobody seemed to notice him or the creature that was drooling over his fallen figure. He tried to shuffle backwards without rising to his feet when the beast let out a deafening roar. Yusuf stopped struggling immediately and covered his ears with his dirty hands. The rest of the people in the plaza immediately began looking around for the source of the noise. They could all hear it, but none of them could see it at all.

_**Pop!**_

Yusuf flew back at the shockwave the sound made, his body tumbling like a doll along the ground for a few meters. The sound echoed outwards through the courtyard, causing buildings to crack and crumble. Merchant tents fell as the walls supporting them turned to rubble and dust. People began to run blindly at the sudden destruction, women and children screaming as men tried to take control while they themselves were fleeing.

Yusuf felt hopelessly alone as people ran past and over his hurt body. He tried to crawl away once more but he couldn't take his eyes off the dark cloud in front of him. It was walking closer to him, its silhouette becoming clearer with each lumbering step forward. It seemed to have pinned him down completely somehow; an invisible was hand reaching out and crushing his whole body into the ground. He was stuck and the monster was coming closer and the force trapping him was growing stronger. With another roar, the beast lunged forward at him and Yusuf could see its mouth gaping from within a skeleton's maw.

Darkness. His eyelids were squeezed shut. Everything was silent.

But he wasn't dead.

Yusuf Abaza opened his eyes cautiously, the sunlight filling his vision and momentarily blinding him. Standing in the center of his white-washed vision was what looked like a young man, dressed in trousers and a white tee, back towards him. The monster was on the ground in front of the mysterious man, its body slowly disintegrating and blowing away towards the ocean. A large sword was gripped in the man's hands.

He rubbed his eyes hard and looked again. The young man was now bending over him, his face only about a meter away from his own. Yusuf was completely shocked at the sight of this strange rescuer: he had bright orange hair and light brown eyes and he looked very foreign. Chinese or Japanese or something. East Asian. Yusuf found himself absurdly wondering why he'd never seen such a stand-out before.

"Are you okay?" the young man asked in perfect Arabic, shocking Yusuf out of his thoughts.

"Y-yes," Yusuf stammered as people began to reemerge from their frightened corners.

The sword-wielding stranger smiled warmly for a second before vanishing completely.

Yusuf sat on the sand-spattered floor of the plaza, his mind reeling from everything he'd just seen. He could hardly believe that he was awake. The throbbing in his ankle was the only thing that convinced him that he was not dreaming. He slumped over onto the ground, his chest heaving, people finally coming to his aid as he stared up at the sky.

The stories were true.

A monster and a savior.

* * *

_**author's note**_

_in case you're confused, you should probably read **So **and** Anonymous **before you continue on with this story._

_for those of you who kinda know what's going on, but still said "wtfffff", trust me; you will get what's going on sooner than later._

_thanks as always to **jazzpha** and **matsumama **for taking a look at this beforehand._

_pace salsa,_

_jta~!_

**_asbeel - the crakow klezmer band_**


	2. The Heart Pounds

_**The Heart Pounds**_

"_K__jaftæði!_" she yelled across the line of cooks, the Icelandic curse cutting through the noisy kitchen. "That's bullshit and you know it! I don't have two minutes to wait on the sauce! I _told_ you that the halibut was gonna be wearing it five minutes ago!"

"Sorry chef!" the cook yelled back at her from down the line. "It'll be done in a minute chef!"

"Just put it right on the plate!" she yelled as she put the fish on the white ceramic disk. "It's up in the window. Galdur, toss me a clean pan!"

The boy doing dishes turned and flung a sauté pan across the top of the kitchen. She reached up and grabbed it by the handle and brought it back down to the burner. She let go of the handle and reached her right hand into the cooler at her knees, grabbing a puffin breast and slapping it into the pan. She reached out and grabbed the bottle of oil, squirting it into the pan and over the meat. The meal was soon sizzling.

For a woman with only one arm, Soi Fon made one hell of a head chef.

Not like she really needed two arms to cook food. Her years as a servant had drilled the art of cooking into her brain, and her training in the _Onmitsukidou _allowed her to do, with her one hand, what most people need two for. She hadn't dropped a single item in the ten months that she'd been working in the kitchen. The only thing she had some slight trouble with was cutting vegetables, but she still did a better job than half of the staff.

Getting this job had been easy, even if she hadn't really wanted it. She'd simply waltzed into the restaurant the day she'd gotten to Iceland and demanded it. When the head chef had emerged, he'd tauntingly made a bet with her. He'd challenged her to a sort of cook-off. She couldn't imagine any reason for someone to refuse – a small, Asian woman comes into _your_ restaurant and demands _your_ job. And get this: she only has one arm.

When Soi Fon had completely outdone him, he offered her the job of daytime head chef. Which she figured was fair. He couldn't very well give up his entire store because someone cooked better than him. She'd been forced to cut off her braids because they kept getting in her way, which was something she hadn't been happy about, but she did get a fairly large paycheck every week and the other chefs in the kitchen did everything she told them to. Every day until three o'clock, she was the boss.

It was almost like being a captain again.

"Hey, China-girl!" called Arnmundur, the owner and nighttime head chef. "I'm here now. Go home!"

Without missing a beat, Soi Fon turned away from the puffin she'd just started and walked off the line. Arnmundur stepped in and continued where she'd stopped as she took off her apron and chef's coat, exposing a long-sleeved red thermal underneath. She stuffed them both into her backpack and zipped it up.

She walked out of the kitchen and into the main dining hall, ignoring the looks she got from the customers. Some of them seemed surprised at her ethnicity, while most kept their eyes trained at the bandages that she kept wrapped tightly around what used to be her left arm.

When she reached the bar, she walked past the bartender and grabbed a beer out of the cooler next to him. She handed it to him and he wordlessly opened it for her. He handed it back and she sat down on one of the barstools and she started to drink. It was a red ale, _Mori, _and she had one after every shift.

"You gonna pay for that beer, Soi Fon?" Arnmundur asked as he walked up slowly, wiping his hands on his apron, her name sounding funny with his accent.

"What?" she quipped, playfully. "I don't get a shift beer anymore?"

"You burned that puffin," he said as he leaned on the bar next to her, "so you have to pay for your beer tonight."

"The hell I did. It was fine when I left. Besides, you seem to have it under control. Out here talking instead of in there working."

"Yes. Well, that's why my name is on the building."

"Oh, I see."

"Speaking of 'my' job," he said, "I'm going to need you to cover Wednesday night's shift for me. I have to go to my wife's parents' for dinner."

"Oh?" she asked. "You can trust me at the helm now?"

"No, but I don't have any choice. It will be a Wednesday, so it'll be slow. I think you can handle it. We'll wait and see."

"Yeah, we will," she said. "You better get back in there before one of those morons burns it down. Hey!"

He stopped.

"While you're up, will you grab my sword from behind the bar?"

He walked around to the other side of the bar and bent down below the countertop. He emerged quickly, _Suzumebachi _in his hands. He gave it to her.

"There you go, monster killer."

"Thanks," she said as she finished her beer and stood. She turned and walked to the front door, the _wakizashi _drawing even more stares. She ignored them as she strappeded her zanpakuto across her back and stepped out onto the snowy streets of Reykjavík.

_*******_

Soi Fon had been in Iceland for almost a year now.

It had been about two years since Soul Society had fallen.

While she'd found a place to stay for now, Soi Fon had spent her entire first year of exile running from country to country. She was trying to put as much distance as possible between herself and Karakura town as possible. The entire country of Japan now served as a gateway to Hueco Mundo, with Karakura being the center portal. The whole island was overrun with Hollow. She doubted anyone could live there anymore.

Because of Aizen.

Somehow, Urahara Kisuke found out that Aizen was alive and had orchestrated the entire attack on Soul Society from the shadows. Soi Fon had absolutely no idea how the man was still alive – she'd seen Kurosaki Ichigo decapitate him with her own eyes. But Urahara swore that he could trust the source of this information.

_What was he doing? _she would wonder sometimes. If Aizen had beaten them, then he surely must have created a way to get to the King's dimension. Yet the world didn't seem altered at all. Outside of Japan becoming a wasteland, almost nothing was out of the ordinary.

Except for the Hollow plague.

In each country she'd been in, almost every small town was completely overrun with Hollow. The larger cities, while not completely immune to attacks, seemed to be spared. Even here in Iceland, Reykjavík was the only area on the island that could be lived in. Everything north of the Esjan mountains was Hollow territory.

It was remarkable to her how few Hollow risked travelling into the more densely populated metropolises; when she had briefly passed through Delhi, the people there didn't even have a clue that the world outside their borders was slowly being devoured. It now seemed as though things were getting worse as time went on. They may avoid the cities, but that didn't stop them from circling at the edges like a moth to a streetlamp.

The entire peninsula that Reykjavík was on seemed to be safe from attack and she hadn't seen a Hollow further west than the 41 in almost two months. In fact, the city functioned as though nothing was wrong. Still, every now and again, one of the beasts would break its fast and charge through the city, looking for a meal.

That's where Soi Fon had decided to step in.

Urahara had given her a new _gigai _before she'd left his hidden hut in Russia. He'd said he'd based it off the same model that he'd given the Vizards, allowing her to utilize her Shinigami powers without shedding the faux body. This was extremely useful, considering that the _gigai _had a built-in translator that allowed her to effectively communicate in whatever country she found herself in. Which came in handy when she was asking locals "where did you last see the monster? Which way did it go?" She may not much care for Kisuke, but she couldn't help but recognize his brilliance. He knew that the survivors would be travelling and he'd outdone himself in assisting them.

Not only did this new model of _gigai _allow her to understand any language, as well as carry her Zanpakuto at all times, she never had to waste precious seconds ejecting herself from the shell_. _She'd once killed a Hollow that, had she been only a second slower, would have devoured a young girl.

Soi Fon was known around the city as the 'monster killer'. Strangely, a large percent of Reykjavík's population – as well as many other places – seemed to be able to see the Hollow and there had been quite a few witnesses the night she'd killed the first one that had wandered into the town. The stories had spread quickly: the monsters were being destroyed by the young Japanese woman with one arm. She would often find gift baskets from thankful townsfolk on her door step when she got home from the restaurant.

Soi, despite herself, liked Iceland.

It wasn't home by any stretch of the imagination, but it would do.

_*******_

Soi Fon stepped out of Arnmundur's restaurant and onto a snowy sidewalk in Reykjavík. She could tell that spring was coming – aside from being able to walk home without a jacket, the sun was still up. She hadn't seen much sunlight over the past six months. It was always dark outside when she went into the kitchen, and it was always dark by the time she left. Over the past three weeks, it was getting brighter and brighter every afternoon.

The sun was still setting and, while she did enjoy seeing some orange splashed upon this city of white and grey, it was far from full daylight. She was always told by her neighbors to "wait for spring, wait for summer!" They seemed almost apologetic for their homeland's climate, and eager to assure the foreigner that things would look better soon. Soi didn't really mind the darkness, but it was certainly starting to get dull. She began walking west, towards the small apartment she had in Skjól, frowning because she knew the sun would be gone before she even got home. Living in Iceland was, during the winter, a lot like living in Hueco Mundo.

Soi Fon turned her head, looked at the sun setting over the bay and the airport, and sighed.

Grimmjow.

She had no way of knowing what had happened to him. Was he still alive? Did the Espada welcome him back into their ranks? Did he resist and get himself killed? Did Aizen have him executed? After she'd been forced to flee from their battle, after Ulquiorra had sliced off her arm…

Soi Fon stopped walking and struggled to catch her breath. She hated getting emotional when she thought about him, and while she hardly ever did get upset, but _not knowing anything _about him drove her mad sometimes. She was _always _thinking about Grimmjow, but sometimes her thoughts turned bad. Lately she'd been having a dream where he killed every Shinigami that had survived the attack, always saving her for last, always laughing when he plunged his blade into her gut.

_No, _she told herself. _He's alive and he's still on our side._

_He's still on _my _side._

She started walking again, her composure recovered. Barely, but recovered. There was a young man around town that dyed his hair blue as some sort of political statement and Soi's eyes would _always_ pick him out in a crowd. Whenever she saw him, her heart would pound in her chest as her hopes soared. The crushing feeling that came with the realization that he wasn't Grimmjow always put her in a foul mood. As long as she didn't see the kid with the blue hair tonight, she would be fine.

"Oh my goodness," came a weaker voice from her right. "I'd forgotten how beautiful you were in the light."

"You're just trying to get me to buy something," she said to Fjalarr, an old man who ran a small produce stand. It was more of a table and a tarp that extended from his front door, but she wasn't about to refuse his goods because of practicality. She always stopped there once a week on her way home from to buy some fresh cabbage and turnips.

"I already know you're going to buy something," he said brightly as she walked over to him. "That's why I can compliment you so truthfully."

Soi Fon smiled and bent down once she'd reached his stand, a small dog running out to lick her hand.

"Hello, Rós," she said as the mutt wagged its stumpy tail and whimpered in excitement. "Hello, girl."

"The usual?" Fjalarr asked down at her, already grabbing the standard three turnips with his right hand.

"Yeah," Soi replied, standing from the dog's reach. "Let me have some of your _flatkaka, _too."

"I already sold all of it today," he said. "Sorry."

"That's fine. When are you making more?"

"Wednesday."

"I'll buy some then."

"Are you going to go out tonight?"

"I think so."

"Good. My bones have been aching all day. Bad. Must be a big one."

Fjalarr was practically a Hollow detector. His old body was extremely sensitive to the pressure their _reiatsu _created, and he wasn't ever shy about telling someone that a monster was nearby. While Soi didn't need him to detect spiritual pressures, he was quite a reliable second opinion.

"Yeah," Soi Fon said as she paid him and placed the produce in her backpack. "I can feel it, too."

She walked away as the sun slid lower and into the ocean. A breeze blew in from the bay, cutting through the city's colorful buildings. Soi shivered slightly and quickened her pace. Her apartment was just around the next bend. The day itself might have been warm enough for a long-sleeved shirt, but nightfall was a different story. She didn't want to stay out too long after dark.

She looked up at the purple sky, the clouds pink as the caught the last rays of sunlight. It would really be night soon and that's when she went out to slay Hollow. While she rarely had to exterminate them within the city, she routinely went outside of the safe-zone to spend a night purifying. It was the only time she removed herself from her _gigai, _just so she could be a real Shinigami again.

If only for a little while.

However, Soi knew that she had to eat before she spent the night butchering Hollow. She had some lamb in her fridge, and there was a recipe she wanted to try with the turnips and cabbage. She turned the corner and saw a woman standing on the sidewalk opposite her front door. She was tall and blonde, her fair skin immediately giving her away as one of the local women. It wasn't uncommon for some of the girls in town to show up at her house. She never really understood why – perhaps it was a role-model type thing – but it was just a part of her life now.

Soi Fon walked past her unlocked the front door, the _kidou _spell she'd placed on the knob slipping away as she touched it.

"Are you her?" the blonde woman asked. "The 'monster killer'?"

_Now that's a first, _Soi thought. _They normally don't say a word to me._

"Yes," she replied, opening her door, keeping her back to the woman. She really didn't have time to sit and talk with an admirer, as nice as she was sure the girl was. "That's what they call me."

"Why don't they call you a _Shinigami?_"

The word stopped Soi Fon in her tracks. She turned her head slowly to look at the woman, for the first time noticing that she was also carrying a _katana _in a light green sheath.

"What did you just say?" Soi hissed.

"I asked you," the woman replied in Japanese, a small wave of _reiatsu _spilling out as she spoke. "Why you don't have these people call you what you really are, Shinigami?"

The woman wasn't releasing her _reiatsu_ as a threat, but as a statement. She was letting Soi Fon know exactly what she was without wasting a word.

This woman was an Arrancar.

Soi leapt forward immediately, her Zanpakuto clashing with the mysterious woman's. The Arrancar sighed as she blocked the strike, before she vanished in a buzz. Soi Fon immediately turned and slashed behind her, barely missing the Arrancar as she came out of _sonído. _Soi Fon began to attack again, causing her opponent to block once another punching sound, the strange woman was across the street again, her blonde hair dancing softly upon the breeze.

"Perhaps you should keep yourself calm," she said as people began to poke their heads out of windows and doors. "You wouldn't want to frighten anyone, Captain Soi Fon."

"Who the hell are you?" Soi asked.

"Former _Terceira _Espada," the blonde woman said, sheathing her zanpakuto, "Neliel tu Oderschvank."

Soi Fon looked at the sheathed sword and lowered her own slightly. "It seems you aren't here to fight me."

"No," she responded, walking past Soi and towards the open apartment door. "I am not. Let's go inside and talk."

Soi Fon flashed forward, placing her body between the Arrancar and her front door. She pointed the tip of her zanpakuto directly at Neliel's throat, her arm as steady as the steel of her blade. The taller woman stopped but did not look surprised at the threat.

"Fuck you," Soi Fon spat. "You're not stepping one foot inside my home until you tell me why you're here."

"Are you sure?" Neliel asked with an extremely pleasant smile. "You're not wearing much and it's starting to get cold."

"I'll deal with the cold."

"But we have so much to talk about."

"And we can do it out here."

"Fine," the Arrancar said, relenting, her voice still sweet despite Soi Fon's dogged aggression. It was almost playful. "If I tell you why I'm here, can we go inside?"

"That depends," Soi said, her voice calm, deep.

"I have a message for you," Neliel tu Oderschvank said. "From Grimmjow."

Soi Fon's eyes widened. She made a small sound in her throat. Her arm fell down to her side, _Suzumebachi _dangling uselessly in her hand. She felt heavy. Her blood was pumping at light speed. Her legs quivered. Her mind raced.

"Grimm…" she managed to say. "…jow?"

"Come on," Neliel said gently, placing a hand on Soi Fon's shoulder. "Let's go inside."

* * *

Grimmjow Jaggerjaquez sat at his desk, his chair leaned back on its two rear legs, his feet propped up and crossed atop the white workspace. There were papers and photographs and maps strewn on the countertop, his black sandals resting on them as though the documents weren't as important to him as they truly were. He was looking up towards the high ceiling and the orange that was falling towards him. He caught the round fruit in his right hand and tossed it back up.

He was ridiculously bored.

For the past two years he'd been a member of Aizen's Neo-Espada, its elite eight members all augmented by the _hogyouku _to create an extremely deadly killing squad. Yet despite his illustrious position as a master soldier, he hadn't left _Las Noches _in almost a year and a half. The King's Zero Squad was giving Aizen some unexpected troubles.

Aizen Sousuke was an absolutely brilliant man, going so far as to feign his own death so that he could go into hiding for a quarter of a century. Apparently when Grimmjow and Ichigo had fought him all those years ago, he'd planned on escaping. Even Ichimaru Gin had been in on the plan, despite his incarceration within the Maggot's Nest. Meanwhile, he'd recreated his army with the assistance of the three top Espada. Then he'd used the Vizard's long-standing dislike for Soul Society to form an alliance with his former enemies, effectively doubling the power of his army overnight. Then he'd simply waited in the shadows until Seireitei fell into a state of comfortable vulnerability; within two days, he had been able to completely wipe the Shinigami forces off the face of the map.

Yet despite his genius and power, he hadn't expected that the Royal Guard would be so powerful. After dismantling the Gotei 13, he'd destroyed the spirit-rich Karakura town, created the _ouken, _and opened a portal to the King's dimension to begin the final leg of his plan to become the ruler of the universe.

Unfortunately for him, the Zero Squad had met him at the gates and battled almost continuously for six months. They had lost almost every Arrancar within their army, leaving only a few of the strongest _numeros _and eight Espada alive. Even the Shinigami that Ichimaru had released from the Maggot's Nest had been completely eradicated. As far as Grimmjow knew, the Royal Guard hadn't suffered a single casualty throughout the entire assault.

Despite their tremendous losses, Aizen didn't seem worried. Or, rather, that was the word within the walls of Las Noches. Grimmjow hadn't seen their leader in nearly a year; he and Gin and the Vizards remained in Seireitei most of the time, only rarely appearing in Hueco Mundo to issue commands and remind them all that he was still in control.

However, because of this current stalemate between the armies, Grimmjow had found himself doing less fighting and more planning. Research and development, he snarkily called it. This had been fine at first; in his first bout against the elite team of Shinigami, he'd almost lost his arm. Again. Not to mention that, despite his current status as one of Aizen's soldiers, he still held his allegiance with Soul Society. Killing Shinigami seemed counter-productive to him. Alongside Ulquiorra, he was waiting for the moment the Vizards and Aizen slipped up and left themselves vulnerable.

"Grimmjow," came a voice from the door, "shouldn't you be more careful about which maps you leave laying about?"

As if on cue, Ulquiorra Cifer appeared in his room. Grimmjow turned and smirked.

"Is that your way of telling me you've got good news for me?"

"Yes," Ulquiorra said as Grimmjow tossed his orange into the air once more. "Neliel has located Soi Fon in Reykjavík."

Grimmjow caught the falling fruit and stood quickly, excitedly. He looked at his green-eyed companion, his smirk turning into a genuine grin.

"See?" he said as he picked _Pantera _up from its spot against the wall and tucked it into his sash. "I told you I knew where she was."

"Yes, you did," the other Arrancar replied. "But unless you want someone _else_ to discover her location, I would hide any evidence that would show your interest in that city. I highly doubt that Aizen trusts either of us at all, despite him allowing us to rejoin the Espada."

"Yeah yeah," Grimmjow replied as he scooped up the maps of northern Europe that had been under his feet on the desk. He slipped them into the center of a large pile of maps, all of which he'd studied intently over the past two years in his secret search for Soi Fon. "We wouldn't want Aizen to send out another search party."

"Exactly," Ulquiorra said. "But considering the targets on the one mission to the real world he did authorize, I wouldn't expect him to take prisoners if he sent out another. Soi Fon would be killed if she were found."

Grimmjow looked at Ulquiorra for a moment before turning back to the maps and shuffling them up one more time. If his carelessness caused her to get killed… it wasn't an option. He didn't even want to think about it. When nobody was around, he would absolutely destroy any and all evidence of his search. He then walked out of the room, turning his head over his shoulder and smirking.

"Come on, Ulquiorra," Grimmjow said "We have an appointment to keep."

"Indeed."

The two of them walked down the white halls of Las Noches, the footsteps echoing off the tall ceilings as they headed deeper into the palace.

Grimmjow was now the _Quinta _Espada, the augmentation he'd received from the _hogyouku _greatly increasing his abilities. For a process he had been revolted by when he'd first heard about it, he was surprisingly pleased with the results. He still wasn't strong enough to completely surpass Ulquiorra, but, he figured, there were worse things that could happen in life. Besides, he figured that if it really came down to it, he could probably give Ulquiorra enough of a thrashing that neither of them would walk away. Not like he really needed to worry about it too much anyway; Ulquiorra Cifer was one of the three people in this entire dimension he trusted. The second was in Iceland with Soi Fon.

The third they were on their way to see now.

They turned a corner and came upon the _Segunda, _Barragan Luisenbarn, and the new _Sexta, _Szayel-Aporro Granz. The two of them stopped talking immediately upon the intrusion, both of their eyes narrowing as their fellow Espada walked towards them.

"Well," said Szayel-Aporro, his large mouth splitting into a wicked grin. "Imagine, the two of you walking and talking together. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen the two of you apart for more than an hour. It's almost like you're keeping secrets from the rest of your buddies here."

"Fuck off, Szayel," Grimmjow said and continued walking. "Don't you have some corpses to molest today or somethin'?"

The pink-haired scientist tittered. "How pitiful is that you must retort with such a childish insult. If only someone of my intellect were appointed to your rank." He tittered again. "Then again, I'm only one spot away. That particular fantasy may one day become a reality."

"Yeah?" Grimmjow asked, stopping to place his hand on his zanpakuto. "You think that day might be today?"

"I think he has a rather good point," Barragan said gruffly, interrupting the two posturing Arrancar. "We get the both of you back within the walls of Las Noches and all you can do is whisper behind closed doors. Don't think that Aizen hasn't noticed your behavior."

"Aizen will do as he sees fit," Ulquiorra said calmly, breaking his silence. "I would think that if he suspected us of conspiracy, he would have killed us already. It would be like swatting a fly for him to remove us."

"If I were you, Ulquiorra," Barragan replied, "I wouldn't assume to know what that man is thinking."

"And were I you," Ulquiorra replied, walking once more. "I would worry less about Grimmjow and me, and more about what will happen the next time Aizen decides to send you against the King's army."

Barragan folded his arms over his chest, the slightest look of insult crossing his normally grimacing face. Grimmjow scoffed and followed Ulquiorra down the hall, his hand falling from his sword to slip into his pocket. In the last attack on the Royal Guard, Barragan had basically been sent on a suicide mission by Aizen. He knew it and so did the rest of the Espada. Barragan's hatred for Aizen was by no means a secret, and it was suspected within the ranks that Aizen had done this as an attempt to eradicate a probable mutineer. The former king of Hueco Mundo had barely escaped with his life, his extraordinary abilities saving him where any other Espada would have perished. His dignity, however, unlike his body, had not regenerated without some lasting damage.

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow were soon walking under the fake sky of the dome, and just as quickly back inside another of the numerous towers that littered the desert landscape. With so many Arrancar dead, the Espada's pavilion had been divided among two towers. One was for the bottom four and the other for the top. _Los Menores _and _Los Grandes._

They were now in the Tower of the Greats.

They ascended the tower, their feet carrying them to the highest floor of the spire. The two of them were soon at the top of the staircase and Grimmjow reached out, pushing open the large white door. They stepped into the room and closed the door behind them, their other partner standing out on the balcony.

"Neliel has completed her mission," Ulquiorra said calmly, "Harribel."

Tia Harribel turned to face the two Espada, her teal eyes regarding them calmly, her blonde hair shining in the artificial sunlight.

"So she made it," Harribel said, walking into the room. "That's good. She and the Shinigami should soon be on the move."

"And you?" Grimmjow asked as he sat down on the large white sofa against the wall, his legs splayed out casually. "What's the deal with your two operatives?"

"They're simply waiting for my signal," she replied, sitting on a chair across from Grimmjow. Ulquiorra remained standing, his hands in his pockets. "Our preparations are complete. We're finally ready to move make our move."

* * *

_**author's note**_

_for all of you guys and dolls wondering about grimmjow and soi fon. _

_the name of this chapter is the translation of the song below, which, quite fittingly, is in icelandic. (also, if any of you are from iceland, or have been to iceland, and i messed something up... please forgive me. i've never been there, so i tried my best to be accurate.)_

_thanks as always to **jazzpha **and **matsumama **for giving most of this chap the once over. read their stuff, it's pretty good._

_until next time_

_jta~!_

_**Hjartað Hamast (Bamm Bamm Bamm) - Sigur Rós**  
_


	3. Night Goat

_**Night Goat**_

The train stopped, jerking all of its passengers forward. Ayasegawa Yumichika slowly opened his left eye, the violet iris lazily glancing out the window of the subway car. He looked quickly, expertly, through the slit, his eye searching for a sign or a landmark.

There.

The movie poster with the graffiti.

This was his stop.

He stood, his left hand resting on the zanpakuto that hung at his hip, the scabbard being held by a purple cord that was slung over his shoulders. Nobody else on the train was awake, but if they were, none of them would have even looked at the sword. Almost everyone on this line carried a weapon of some sort, usually a type of blade. Besides, they all knew who he was already; he'd made it perfectly clear from day one that he was not to be messed with.

"_This is Broadway-Nassau," _the electronic voice said over the speaker, her pre-programmed words crackling as Yumichika stumbled off the train. _"Transfers to the J, M, Z, 4, 5…"_ the voice trailed off as Yumichika walked down the platform. The morning crowd was light, allowing him to stroll comfortably through the station. Very few people risked riding into the city before the sun rose over the rooftops, and the _A _linehardly ever carried more than thirty people before noon.

He walked past the movie poster that served as his marker for the week. It looked like some sort of kid's movie, starring an older, respected actor and some new, younger, more popular actress. There was stick-figure stenciled upon it, making a silly face right between the two actors. Yumichika chuckled at the graffiti, thinking that the tongue sticking out from the painted face perfectly summed up his feelings on the film: garbage. He would be sad to see the poster go.

He walked up a flight of stairs as another train, the _C, _zoomedpast the middle-level platform that he'd just walked up to. He pulled out a large silver flask from his vest pocket and took a swig. It was half empty.

_Strange, _he thought as he took another drink from the whiskey, his eyes watching the train as it roared past him. _That one shouldn't be running right now. Not on _this_ track._

He took a third swallow, coughed lightly, and screwed the cap back onto his flask. He looked up at the signs above him. He'd been drinking all night and the whiskey was starting to mess with his sense of direction. He needed to go southwest.

There, the exit behind him. He turned around and headed for the turnstiles.

He strolled through the horizontal bars and bounced up the steps, his black hair suddenly blowing back in the morning winds of New York City.

Manhattan continued to run like it always did. Taxis zoomed through the streets; jackhammers sounded at all hours; trash piled up on the sidewalks every Thursday; people got up in the mornings and rushed to Wall Street and set up souvenir tables and food stands; tourists still visited and directors still filmed the ends of their movies in Central Park. The Hollow plague remained away from the sleepless city.

It was the other boroughs that were suffering from the infestation. Hollows swarmed over Brooklyn and The Bronx at night. People could still live there, but only the quickest and bravest of souls could make it to the safety of Manhattan before sunrise. A piece of land in Brooklyn was reported to be safe, stretching from LaGuardia to 30th Ave, but he'd never gone that far north. He'd also heard that Queens and Staten Island had been completely deserted, but again, he hadn't been there.

Most of his business was conducted in the small area of Brooklyn near Prospect Park.

Two years ago, Yumichika had almost been killed by Charlotte Cuuhlhourne, the Arrancar leaving him for dead in the streets of Karakura. He'd blacked out and had woken up in Urahara's shop in Russia, just north of Japan. Kurosaki Ichigo had carried him over his shoulder the whole way and when Urahara had told them that they needed to go into hiding, they had gone together.

They'd traveled as far as Budapest, stopping there for six months to help exterminate the Hollow that crawled all over the city. Ichigo had been _so_ positive about everything on their journey, smiling and promising to kill every Hollow he saw. Yumichika had known that the captain of the thirteenth could be an uplifting character, but he'd never truly seen to what extent.

_So what we lost? _The orange-haired shinigami had declared one night after they'd purified nearly two-hundred Hollow, a broad and reassuring smile plastered on his face. _So what we got beat by Aizen? Are we supposed to curl up and let him take over the whole world? As Shinigami, we're supposed to keep on going until the day we die!_

When they had separated – Ichigo to investigate something about Shinigami in India and Yumichika to fly to the States – the Shinigami captain had made a promise to never stop protecting the world. He'd smiled and vanished and Yumichika'd never heard from him again.

And while he hadn't exactly shared in Ichigo's promise, Ayasegawa Yumichika still hopped on a train to Brooklyn every night and exterminated Hollow.

Strangely enough, he wasn't alone.

Yumichika had met at least thirty Shinigami in his travels, twenty-four of them in New York City alone. They were all strangers to him, but they were nonetheless genuine; most of them had been out in the real world on missions when their connections to Soul Society had been terminated, but a few had escaped after the Espada had taken over Soul Society. They all had specialized _gigai _like his, only far less advanced models. They couldn't translate things immediately like he could, but they could use their zanpakuto and Shinigami powers without ditching the body. Apparently, Mayuri had been thinking along the same lines as Urahara.

A large number of the people in this city could see the Hollow, as well as those who could exterminate them. This had led to a penchant for carrying around _katana _for protection; even if the cheap pieces of pawn-shop steel couldn't put a scratch in one of the monster's hides, the feeling of armament did wonders for the confidence of normal people. Almost every person that braved the darkened streets of Brooklyn had some sort of weapon.

Yumichika had a suspicion that some humans carried around swords to simply pose as heroes. Genuine Shinigami were all but revered throughout the city and it didn't take long for some of the population to figure out that they would be both respected and feared if everyone else thought they possessed supernatural powers. It may not save them from a Hollow, but normal folks left you alone. Unless you picked a fight with a real soul reaper, you could pretty much run around and do whatever you wanted.

He didn't really care about the rest of the Shinigami, but it was extremely fortunate that they were there. The mayor of the city had somehow heard about the death gods and had scrambled to make it known that he wanted to employ them. As long as you were a genuine Hollow killer, the city would pay you five hundred dollars a week to go out and "clean up the streets". It wasn't much, but at least Yumichika could pay rent while doing something he would have been doing anyway.

One of the strange Shinigami he'd met had even been in the eleventh squad. She had been the first death god he'd encountered in the city. He'd been on the _3_, headed out towards Flatbush Ave when she'd recognized him. At first he'd assumed she was just another punk kid with a sword, but the look in her eyes when she'd stood up and walked from her car into his let him know that she knew _exactly_ who he was.

"_Lieutenant Ayasegawa!" _she'd said with an extremely formal bow, eliciting the first strange look that he'd even gotten since he'd moved to the city.

"_Please," _he'd responded, standing. "_Don't call attention to yourself. Do I know you?"_

"_I'm Takahashi Hitomi," _she'd said bowing again. Yumichika had rolled his eyes and left her then, but she'd followed him out of the train and up into the night. "_I served under you and Captain Madarame. I wasn't a seated officer or anything but—"_

"_Listen," _Yumichika'd cut her off,_ "do you at least know your _shikai? _Can you actually help me or are you just going to get under my feet like a lost puppy?"_

"_Oh, of course, Ayasegawa-sama! I'm your girl!"_

_Hitomi was dead now_, Yumichika thought as he continued down Fulton Street. _That must have been… a year ago? Something like that._

He didn't really miss her. He missed having _someone _around, but she was nothing to write home about. She'd been nice to wake up next to for a few months, but her conversational skills were very lacking. And while he did love how much she'd admired him – he loved it whenever _anyone _admired him – she was entirely too obsessive about him. She was always praising him about _something. _

_Whatever. I told her not to go out that night, _he thought, pulling out his flask again._ Not without me._

He took a swig as he approached Gold Street, his street. His nose wrinkled as he passed over a steaming manhole, the vapors from the sewers foul enough to make the inexperienced vomit.

He was about to make it to the corner and turn when he heard the yelling. It was directed at him.

He sighed and stopped.

"There he is! One of the heretics that claims he can _save_ you! He thinks he knows what _true_ salvation is! But let _me_ tell you the _truth! _Only the love of Jesus _Christ_ can save you now, for the time of Revelations is upon us!"

These words came from Yumichika's neighborhood doom-crier, who, for some reason, _always_ made sure to pick the sword-wielding young man out of a crowd. Yumichika didn't know why – he'd never claimed _anything _about saving _anyone_. He didn't even _like_ most of the people in the city. He had a suspicion that the man was simply threatened by him; that the Shinigami knew more about these "end times" than anyone else must have been extremely off-putting for the old man. He could understand the lengths to which humans went to in order to assuage their own fears, but _damn_ if it wasn't annoying sometimes.

A group of teenagers were surrounding preacher, one of them carrying an imposter's sword of his own. This particular group had a habit of showing up every few days and heckling the street-preacher, attempting to drown out his absurdities with their own brand of ignorant arguments. Yumichika had once made the mistake of actually listening to the would-be intellectuals one day:

_If God exists why is there evil, man? _

_Why would he let all this bad stuff happen, dude?_

He thought these were extremely stupid arguments. Apparently the old man did too; he _always _ignored these questions. This didn't stop the teens from repeating them two or three times a session, each time louder than the previous. The whole spectacle gave Yumichika a headache.

He figured that it was only natural that a religious debate would seem tedious to a man who was already dead.

"_Yes!_" the man yelled as Yumichika continued to walk. He'd been planning to go into the Duane Reade and grab some cigarettes, but he didn't feel like getting close to the ugly old-timer who was making his stand out front. He had half a pack at home somewhere. It wasn't worth it.

"Keep on walking, false _prophet_! Look at him! He's drunk, but not on his own sense of power this time! He's simply a drunkard!"

_That's fair, _Yumichika thought with a chuckle as he walked on by, _I _am_ fond of the drink._

"These Pagan devils! These minions of _Satan_ try to trick you into following them! They call themselves _Shinigami, _but I know what they're _really _called: _Demons!_"

Yumichika stopped and gritted his teeth. Maybe it was the copious amounts of whiskey he'd drunk that night, but something about the old man saying the word "Shinigami" was really rubbing him the wrong way. This crazed preacher may have the right to cling to whatever beliefs helped him sleep at night, but that gave him no right to disrespect the souls that went out every day to help keep his city safe.

Some of whom had lost their lives to save people this narrow-minded.

Yumichika turned, slightly wobbly on his feet, and glared across the street at the old man; his wrinkled mouth was still flapping, but it was apparent that he and the boys surrounding him had noticed that the Shinigami had turned and was glaring at them.

He looked the old man directly in the eye and released a dense wave of _reiatsu._

The preacher's mouth hung open in shock as he and the kids surrounding him fell to their knees. His eyes were staring straight into Yumichika's, the expression on his face a mixture of fear and confusion and defeat. His jaw started working but he couldn't force any sound to come out.

Yumichika stopped his distant onslaught and turned towards his apartment building, walking under the green scaffolding and orange lights with a smile.

_Maybe now they'll stop standing there._

_*******_

He struggled to get his key in the lock. He was far drunker than he'd thought he was. The doormen had given him funny looks. He'd almost passed out in the elevator. It was only a two story ride. He didn't remember walking down to the end of the hall to his door.

Yumichika finally got the knob open and stumbled into his apartment. He tossed his zanpakuto on the couch to his right and walked into the kitchen. There was a half-smoked cigarette in the sink. How it got there, he had no clue. He opened the freezer.

"Dammit," he swore, mumbling. "I thought… I fuckin' made ice. Oh well, I'll have to drink it warm."

He hated when his whiskey got too warm in his vest pocket. He usually made ice before he went out to go Hollow hunting. _Whatever. _He'd just finish off what was in the flask, hot or not. It wasn't much. He unscrewed the lid and tilted his head back and finished it all in one go. It was very, very warm.

"Oh, _God_," he coughed as he picked up the half cigarette from the sink and scrambled to light it before he vomited. He inhaled the smoke, the menthol flavor magically making his upset stomach settle a little bit. Enough to keep it down, he supposed.

He walked over to the large windows that took up half of his living room wall and slid open one of the curtains. The grey light of morning poured into his apartment and he cracked the window open a bit, enough to let the smoke out. He rested his forehead against the cool glass. He sighed and took another drag.

_Is this really what I've become? _he thought with a sigh. _Centuries of training and climbing the ranks and I can barely scratch together a living? I scramble around saving the ungrateful people every night. I have a fuckin' _bankai _and now…_

His eyes began to feel hot and he knew he was crying. Sometimes it all got to him. His home was so far away. He was alone. Ikkaku was listed as _MIA_, but was assumed dead. He didn't know anyone, he was always alone. He was bored and he was broke and he couldn't stop drinking.

His life was ugly.

He tried to pound his fist against the glass of the window, but he didn't have the strength. He knew needed sleep. He usually felt like this when he got home; sleeping was the only thing that got these hideous thoughts out of his head. He turned around to stumble towards the mattress in the other room.

Someone was standing in his apartment.

"So this is what passes for a Shinigami these days?" The voice was calm, confident, feminine. "Pathetic."

Yumichika's entire body went rigid. _Ruriiro Kujaku _was still on the couch, next to the strange invader. He backed up slowly, his tear-stained eyes looking at the woman that stood in his foyer. She had long black hair, braided tightly in the back, short bangs falling over her thin-rimmed glasses.

She had a zanpakuto in her left hand.

"Who the fuck are you?" Yumichika asked with a quick sniffle. He looked around the room, hazily planning a way to get to the sword that was on the sofa next to her. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm Yadomaru Lisa," she said, picking up his sword from the sofa and chucking it at him. "And you're coming with me."

* * *

Hirako Shinji stepped back into Seireitei, the _garganta _closing quietly behind him. The last thing he needed was to have someone catch him coming back from the real world. Aizen knew that he'd be out there – Shinji had told him personally that he was going – but he didn't know where the Vizard was going to be. If Aizen had seen him coming back from around the States, he would become very suspicious.

Aizen was already wary of him, anyway.

Shinji's plan had always been to keep Lisa and Rose out of the Seireitei takeover altogether, going so far as to let out rumors of them leaving his group a year before he'd even made his first move. It had worked, too; Aizen Sousuke hadn't even asked about them, only making a quick comment about their absence being a shame, that their power would have been somewhat "useful" to him.

Then Ichimaru had caught Shinji talking to Rose a year ago. The two of them had been in Italy, Shinji giving the long-haired Vizard an update on their plans when Aizen's second in command had appeared out of a _garganta _right next to them, his ever present smile sneering at the two knowingly. Rose had fortunately been quick enough on his feet to make the offer to come back to the "family", but Gin hadn't been fully convinced that the duo weren't up to something. Of course he'd told Aizen about it. And while Aizen hadn't disciplined Shinji – he _never _disciplined any of the Vizards like he did his Arrancar – he'd given him that look of warning, that knowing grin.

So Shinji had to walk on eggshells now, making the second half of this plan even more difficult to execute.

He'd always planned on most of the Shinigami captains being exiled, making sure that he left them strong enough to escape from Aizen and hide in the real world. While there had been casualties – he wanted to leave all the Shinigami he could alive, but he had absolutely no control over what the Arrancar did during the siege – the first part of the plan had been successful. He'd been able to flush Aizen out of hiding and had, more or less, gained his trust. He knew that the only way to kill his former lieutenant was to get close to him, and overthrowing Soul Society would make it seem as though their shared goals were genuine.

Conversely, part of his plan was also to assist Unohana and her band of exiles to regroup and actually _reclaim_ Seireitei. He'd planned on Rose and Lisa finding the scattered Shinigami and leading them all to a single city to regroup and plan a counter-attack. It would have taken a while for the two of them to do it, but it was the only way to do it without seeming suspicious. Now that Rose was stuck in Soul Society, however, Lisa was going to have to do it by herself. It was going to take forever.

But things _were_ moving along. Shinji had been forced to find Urahara Kisuke after Rose had been found out and, after almost losing his head to _Benihime, _he'd convinced the scientist that he was genuinely trying to help them now. Urahara had laughed himself to tears once he'd realized what Shinji's plan had been. He'd claimed that he was "so jealous of the Vizard's brilliance that it made him cry". Shinji still had a sneaking suspicion that the former captain had been mocking him.

Urahara's help had proven to be invaluable. He'd outfitted each of the surviving Shinigami with a new _gigai, _and as such, he had been the last person to see each one of them. He'd helped Shinji locate almost all of the scattered soul reapers over the past six months and now they were finally ready to bring them all together again.

Which is why he was returning from New York City this morning. He had decided to send Lisa after Yumichika first, considering that he was the furthest away from the portal in Karakura town. With Japan being the black-hole that it had become, moving him west from the States was an impossibility. Planes and boats and trains still ran unaffected by the Hollow scourge, but nothing was going anywhere near that island. Besides, if Lisa could play her cards right, she could locate some of the other Shinigami that were in Europe and western Asia on her way to Japan.

_Man, _Shinji thought, rubbing his forehead with a sigh. _All this shit is such a pain in the ass. Why couldn't Ichigo and Grimmjow have just killed Aizen back when they'd had the chance?_

Grimmjow Jaggerjaquez. And Ulquiorra Cifer, for that matter. Shinji had really only met with those two Arrancar once or twice since they had joined up with the Espada again. He had no idea what they were thinking or planning, if they were even considering sabotage at all. But he knew that Grimmjow and Soi Fon had been lovers, so he doubted that the blue-haired Arrancar was truly working for Aizen without some sort of ulterior motives. Still, Shinji wasn't about to ruin twenty-seven years of planning because he wanted to ask the Espada a question. If the two Arrancar had something up their sleeves, Shinji would have to hope that they could work together when and if their plans crossed.

"Gee, Captain Hirako," Ichimaru Gin suddenly said from behind him, "you keep on goin' off to the real world like that and Captain Aizen's gonna get suspicious a' you again."

"Don't even start with me, Ichimaru," Shinji said without turning around, forcing the other Shinigami to catch up to him. "I already told Sousuke I was headin' there. Besides, he ain't never gonna stop bein' suspicious of me."

"But does he know you was talkin' with Lisa-chan?"

"That's what I'm off to tell him now," Shinji lied. _Dammit, he's a pain in the ass. _

"What'd she say?" Gin asked with a chuckle. "Ain't she gonna _join _us like Rose did?"

The sarcasm did not escape Shinji.

"Probably not," he replied. "While she ain't got any real love for the Shinigami, she still said that we're bastards fer what we've done. She also told me to tell you to go to hell." That part was actually true.

"Such a shame," Gin said, the insult not landing at all. "I'm sure Captain Aizen'll be disappointed that she ain't joinin' up with the family again."

"I'm sure he won't care," Shinji said as the two of them entered the first division. "Lisa ain't even got a _bankai _yet. Rose was far more valuable and even then Sousuke wasn't even that happy when he came back to us."

"Ah, don't be like that," Gin said playfully. "You just don't know how ta' _tell_ when he's happy."

"Yeah," Shinji quipped, turning a corner. "The day I see ol' Sousuke laugh, I'll lick your sandals."

"You're too negative, Captain Hirako," Gin said stopping. "Well, I'm off."

Shinji stopped. "You ain't comin' to tattle on me again?"

"Oh no," Gins said. "I'm meetin' Starrk and Harribel in Las Noches in fifteen. Ain't very professional to be late, you know."

"Whatever," Shinji said as he began walking again. He was glad Ichimaru wasn't going to be watching his meeting with Aizen, but it didn't really matter. He knew that he would have to tell Aizen about Lisa, whether Gin was there or not. It would eventually come out and it was better to tell it to Aizen first than to have that weasel twist it up like he'd done about Rose.

"Oh, one more thing, Captain Hirako," Gin said, turning around. "You didn't happen to see Ayasegawa-kun while you were in the city, did you?"

Shinji gritted his teeth but he didn't turn around. "Nope, no sign of him."

Ichimaru Gin chuckled and walked off, leaving Shinji to finish his trip to the Captain-Commander's room in silent irritation. He knew that Ichimaru was going to prove to be an obstacle, but it made him furious that he couldn't touch him. As Aizen's oldest comrade, touching a single hair on his silver head was like asking for a painful death. Shinji might not believe that Aizen Sousuke could laugh, but he knew first hand that his old pupil could get very angry.

"Come in," Aizen's voice came out from behind the door, "Captain Hirako."

Shinji hadn't even knocked yet. He hated when Aizen sensed his presence like that. It made him feel like he was being watched. It was like this book he'd read back in the real world. He couldn't remember the name of the book, but Aizen reminded him of the government in it. _1984. _That was it. He felt like he was stuck under the watchful eye of Aizen Sousuke, Big Brother.

Shinji slid open the door to the Captain-Commander's room, his eyes scanning the space to find Aizen standing out on the balcony, his back to the room as he looked out over the morning-lit Seireitei.

"Ya know, Sousuke," Shinji said, "you ain't gotta keep that watchdog a' yours on me at all times."

Aizen turned, giving him a sickeningly pleasant smile. Shinji wanted to stab it.

"My apologies, Hirako," Aizen said. "But you must understand that I cannot yet trust you completely."

"Hey, I wouldn't trust me neither," Shinji said, sidling up next to Aizen on the balcony, taking in the morning view. "But you gotta give me _some_ credit."

"Of course," Aizen responded "After all, were it not for you, I wouldn't be standing in this exact spot right now, enjoying this wonderful sunrise."

Shinji remained silent.

"So tell me," Aizen said, filling the silence. "How did your meeting with Lisa go?"

_Ichimaru, you bastard, _Shinji thought. _Told him already?_

"Eh, I've had worse," Shinji lied. "She ain't joinin' the cause, though. She called us monsters."

"What a shame," Aizen said. "She would have truly been useful to me. However, I cannot have a loose cannon such as her running around. I'll trust that you can find a way to kill her?"

Shinji gritted his teeth, concentrating on the roofs of Soul Society below so that Aizen's arrogant tenor didn't make him throw a punch.

"I'd really rather not," Shinji said, his voice calm despite his inner rage. "After all these years, I've developed quite the soft-spot for ol' Lisa-chan."

"Of course," Aizen replied, unfazed by the dissention. "But if she proves to become a problem, I expect you to solve it for me."

"If she don't disappear again," Shinji replied. "It took me this long to find her and now that _she_ knows we know where she is, I'm sure she ain't gonna be stickin' around in one spot for too long."

"I may not trust you," Aizen said, turning to face him. "But I have absolute faith in your abilities. I'm sure you won't disappoint me."

The tone in his voice let Shinji know that Aizen was done talking to him. While Aizen's unrivaled command usually irritated the piss out of him, Shinji was actually glad to hear those words. Something about this morning had him in a foul mood and he had a feeling that any more time within Aizen Sousuke's presence would have caused bloodshed.

Shinji stepped out of the room and slid the door shut. Only then did he realize that he'd been gripping the scabbard of his zanpakuto for the past three minutes. He switched it into his right hand and slowly uncurled the fingers on his left, the white knuckles turning pink as blood struggled to return to them.

"You could have handled that better," came a sneering voice from down the hall, "ya dickhead."

"I don't even wanna hear it, Hiyori," he said, looking up. "All I want right now is somethin' to eat."

"Kensei just finished cookin'," she said, her arms folded over her chest as she leaned against the wall. "So you're in luck."

"Good," Shinji said, walking past her. "I need some luck for once."

* * *

_**author's note**_

_unlike the iceland scene, i **have **been to manhattan. if you couldn't tell._

_thanks as always go out to **jazzpha, **for reminding me that the melvins are superior to a great many things, and to **matsumama,** for making sure some of my own biases weren't too strong in a certain scene. they are some of my favorite peeps; go read their stuff. also, special thanks to **psychokoolaid **for giving me some mad-dope-ass reviews. as well as everyone else who has been **reviewing**. i do love reading them._

_more catch-up next time!_

_jta~!_

_**night goat - melvins**_


	4. Sidi Bou Said

_**Sidi Bou Said**_

She glanced over her shoulder one last time, quickly.

It was a _do-or-die_ kind of moment and she knew that risking one look, wasting even half of a second, could ruin everything. But she couldn't help herself. She never could. Fortunately, it paid off for her this time; she was going to succeed and, because of that single glance, now she _knew_ it. She paddled forward even harder, her anticipation for success helping her thin arms push her small body through the water. The wave stopped sucking back on her and began to propel her instead, aquatic fingers gripping the surfboard and carrying it forward. She stopped paddling, the water now doing the work for her as it picked her up, and she reached both of her small hands down to grip the rails of the board. She pushed herself up to her feet.

With a stomach-knotting plunge, Lilynette Gingerback dropped down onto the face of the wave.

She grinned wide and immediately cut to her left, the board beneath her small feet moving as she shifted her hips. She rode goofy-foot, so she had a penchant for going to the left despite being right-handed. This particular break usually only allowed a ride to the right, so whenever a set came in that allowed her to pull left, it made her day. Hell, it made her week.

She reached out with her left hand and trailed it along the face of the wave, her fingertips slicing deftly through the water's surface. She was crouched down on her haunches, picking up speed. Her hand sticking into the wall of water helped her keep her balance. She would need all the equilibrium she could keep, especially for this next part of the ride.

Her world suddenly got dark and very loud. The wave was folding over on itself and she was dead in the middle of it. She was inside of a tunnel of water that was collapsing right behind her, her skin tinged blue by the aquamarine walls that surrounded her. She crouched down even more, her butt all but touching the wax-covered board below her. The crashing sound of the water was all around her, the wave was falling apart. She couldn't go any faster – the water was both her adversary and her savior.

She exploded out of the tube, her ears still ringing as the sunlight washed over her body once more. She could feel her heart racing in her chest, the _gigai _perfectly mimicking the rush of adrenaline that a normal body would feel after such an extreme activity. She stood up, the burning in her thighs vanishing slightly as she straightened her knees. She twisted her hips and carved a small path up and then down the side of the diminishing wave. She couldn't see it, but she knew she was wearing a goofy grin. Shuuhei always teased her about it – he said she always got it after a good ride.

She finally lost momentum and her board began to slow. She wouldn't be able to stand up on it for too much longer. She looked over her shoulder at Shuuhei. He was at least two-hundred yards out, but she could see his thumb sticking up in the air. She fell backwards into the sea, the warm waters of the Mediterranean enveloping her small body. She listened to the dampened echoes of another wave passing over her. She felt a tug on her ankle from the leash – the board was being pulled towards the beach, reminding her that she wasn't a fish.

She surfaced and crawled back onto her board and slowly paddled to the shore. She didn't want to leave, but they had a long drive ahead of them. If they wanted to get back to their house before nightfall, they had to leave as soon as possible. They probably should have left thirty minutes ago.

She got to the beach and stuck her board into the sand, the white and green slab sticking almost six feet into the air. She reached down and took off her leash, the Velcro tearing apart loudly. She sat down on beach and looked out towards the break. Shuuhei had told her "only one more wave" – now she had to hope that he followed his own advice and rode this next one in. He usually paddled back out to catch another "last wave". She had a niggling suspicion that he did it just to piss her off.

Lilynette saw him start to paddle as a blue mountain began to take shape behind him. He leapt up to his feet and sped down the face of the wave, cutting to his right as the wall of water continued to grow at his back. Lilynette stood up to get a better view; this wave was easily nine feet tall. She didn't want to miss a second of his ride, despite the pangs of jealousy she felt while watching him.

Suddenly, the wave collapsed as just a tube was beginning to form around him. She breathed in sharply as that colossal cave of water fell on top of his body. He vanished beneath the surface as the wall of blue turned into a violent and churning surge of white. She took a step forward, her hand swiftly coming up to her mouth as she saw the front half of his board fly up out of the sea and into the air. The second half, the back half that was connected to Shuuhei's leg, was missing, there being nothing below the jagged break in the board.

Her eyes darted around, looking for any sign of life in the churning waters. _There! _She saw the back half of his board pop up to the surface. He soon floated up next to it as another wave pushed him closer to the shore. She darted off the beach and into the surf, her feet trampling over the sharp rocks and coral below the surface. She could feel the flesh of her toes open up but she didn't care. This beach was notorious for casualties; back before the Hollow plague had begun, people from all over the world found their final resting places among the corals of _La Droite du Fort _beach. Memorial markers still littered the edge of the sand. She hoped that someone wouldn't be adding a new one today.

After what felt like a century, she finally reached his body. Panic settled in as she saw him face down in the water, floating still. He had several bloodied spots in the flesh of his back. The wave had slammed him down into the reef below the break. She reached him and turned his body over quickly.

Hisagi Shuuhei smiled and spit a mouthful of water up into her face.

"You _fucker!" _she yelled, letting go of him and standing up with a snort.

He laughed and stood up, grabbing the broken half of his board that was still attached to his ankle. He undid the leash and looked at her.

"Were you worried about me?" he asked with a smirk.

"Of course I was worried about you," she groaned, marching back towards the beach.

"Well, you shouldn't have been," he said, matter-of-factly, following behind her. "It's gonna take a lot more than some rocks to take me out."

"Oh, _Shuuhei_," she said sardonically, rolling her eyes. "You're _so _awesome."

"Dammit baby, I know it."

"I hate you," she snarled as they got to the shoreline.

"No you don't," he said, tossing the back half of his board down into the sand. He looked back out at the surf. "Any sign of the rest of my board?"

Lilynette didn't respond. She plucked her own board out of the sand and headed towards their jeep. Hisagi took another second to scan the surf with his eyes before he turned around and followed her, dragging half of a surfboard behind him by its leash. They made it to the jeep they'd parked at the edge of the beach that morning. Lilynette slid her board into the open back and Hisagi tossed his half-board in behind hers. She hopped up onto the hood of the car and looked off into the desert to the south.

"Were you really worried about me?" Hisagi asked, leaning an elbow against the vehicle.

"I already told you I was," she huffed.

He placed a hand on her leg and she turned to look at him, the wind blowing her still wet bangs down into her face. Hisagi reached up and brushed the blonde hair aside, before leaning forward and kissing her.

"Well," he said with a smirk as he pulled back, "I think that's absolutely precious."

"I'm glad your board's broken," she grumbled as she hopped down from the hood of the jeep. "Let me drive."

Hisagi bent down and grabbed the keys from under the rock that he always hid them under.

"Nope," he said as he walked around her slid into the driver's seat. "You know your feet don't reach the pedals."

"I _hate _you," she hissed as she sat down next to him.

"No you don't."

_*******_

Hisagi Shuuhei yawned as he merged left off of the P5 and onto the 9. The distance from their surf-spot in Tabarka to their home in Carthago was probably only about ninety kilometers. Unfortunately, the road he had to take, the P7, wasn't exactly the straightest of highways; it twisted and turned through the mountains of the northern Sahara. Not to mention that the Tunisian government wasn't exactly _rushing_ to fix the numerous potholes that he was forced to dodge at least once a minute.

He reached his right hand over and rubbed the top of Lilynette's head, his fingers gently tousling her short blonde hair as she slept in the passenger seat. It wasn't her natural color, but Urahara Kisuke had thought that giving her a _gigai _that actually had green hair would draw far too much attention. Which was a reasonable thought.

Hisagi placed both hands back on the wheel again as he merged onto the Trans-African Highway and then quickly back onto the P9. He yawned again, rubbing his eyes as he steered with his left knee. He knew they were almost home.

Home.

It was a funny word to him now. After leaving Urahara's place in Siberia, he and Lilynette had immediately headed for Africa. Back then, he was still worried about them being followed by Aizen or the other Espada. He'd figured that one of the most remote places on the planet would also be one of the safest, so the Sahara it was. He knew better _now_ of course, but he didn't really regret picking Tunisia as a place of residency. The government wasn't ideal – in fact, most of the countries in this area of the world were downright horrendous nowadays – but they were so worried about the Hollow that they didn't spend much time on xenophobia anymore.

Their odd ethnicities had certainly caused some strange looks at first, but once they'd saved their little neighborhood from a Hollow or two, they were very much welcomed into the community. Their lack of the Islamic faith still got them a _stink-eye _every Friday morning or so, but nothing more than that. He'd been told by the owner of their favorite restaurant that they were lucky, that places like Libya and Algeria wouldn't have tolerated Lilynette not wearing a burqa, much less their non-Muslim lifestyles.

_Which is good, _Hisagi thought as he passed by the ancient ruins of Carthage, _despite what I'd heard, a lot of these Muslim people are absolutely wonderful to get along with. _

The car slowed as he reached their parking lot. They lived in the blue and white painted town of Sidi Bou Said and, despite how much he loved it, there wasn't much space – certainly not enough room for each home to have a garage or a personal parking place. Not like it was a long walk, anyway.

He parked and turned the car off.

"Hey," he said to Lilynette, shaking her lightly. "We made it."

"Oh," she said groggily. "Okay."

She stretched and yawned and stepped out of the jeep. He walked around to the back and grabbed their boards. He handed hers over and picked up what remained of his. He looked at it and frowned.

"Ah, dammit," he said. "I can't believe that happened."

"_Aww_, poor Shuuhei," Lilynette said, sneaking him a kiss. "We'll get you a new one. I promise."

"But did you see that wave?" he asked with a chuckle. "Thing was _huge." _

"I saw you eat some reef," she said, teasing. "That's all _I _saw."

He chuckled and kissed her again, immediately looking out into the dark. Nobody was around. Despite the general tolerance in the community, their neighbors still weren't much on public displays of affection. Especially from the little blonde woman that spent most of her time running around in a bathing suit.

Still, it was a pleasant little ocean-front community. It would be downright perfect if there was better surf nearby. And better parking.

He couldn't really remember whose idea it was to first pick up surfing. He wanted to say it was simultaneous, but he figured it was probably Lilynette's. They'd watched some documentary on the sport and the next day they'd been out shopping for boards. It hadn't taken them long to find the good spots, either – _La Droite _and _Ras Rajel _where their favorites, even if they were both a two hour drive.

They walked up to their front door, the blue paint shining out from the white walls around it. Hisagi reached forward, struggled with the lock, and turned the key within the knob. The door cracked open slightly.

"Hey, Lil," he said, holding the keys out to her. "You go down and grab the mail and I'll wash off the boards?"

"You mean the _board?" _she snickered, grabbing the key ring and leaning her surfboard up against the wall. "I don't think yours counts anymore."

She skipped away jovially and he watched her go, smiling. He reached down and grabbed a green hose, twisting the knob that was attached to the wall. He sprayed the fresh water over her surfboard, rinsing the salt and sand off of it as quickly as he could. Despite the tropical beach feel that the town of Sidi Bou Said had, he always had to be mindful of their water usage. They were at the edge of the world's largest desert, after all.

Speaking of water conservation, he figured he'd take a quick "surfer's shower" with the hose. Lilynette insisted on taking a real one most of the time, but he didn't mind skipping the shampoo every now and again. As long as he didn't have sand in his pants and salt on his face, he was fine. Besides, he was just going to do it all again tomorrow. Or whenever he got a new board.

He steeled himself before turning the hose around and holding it over his head.

"_Hoo!" _he exhaled as the cold water poured down over his hair and shoulders. He pulled the hose back, and shook his head. He gritted his teeth before repeating the process, only this time sticking the end of the hose into the waistband of his shorts. Every muscle in his body tightened into rocks as he groaned his way through the rinse-down.

After he was sure that most of the sand was off of him, he turned the water off and coiled the hose back up against the wall. He walked into the small house that he and Lilynette shared, quickly grabbing for one of the numerous towels that were draped over any given chair within the room. He began to dry himself off, gently patting his wet skin where he'd gotten a bit too much sun during the day. He dropped his shorts and wrapped the towel around his waist. He grabbed the wet clothing and tossed it into a hamper in an adjoining room.

An old black cat suddenly leapt up into the open window near the far wall, staring at him and mewling.

"Hey there, Yamamoto," he said, reaching across and scratching the feline's cheeks. The small animal had started hanging around their place after Lilynette'd decided to feed it one day. Hisagi had named it after his old Captain-Commander and, for some reason, had taken a liking to the old thing over the past couple of years.

The cat purred and meowed at him again.

"I know," Hisagi said at the cat, reaching down to grab a small bag at the base of the window.

Yamamoto meowed again.

"Just gimme a damn second and I'll feed you. You act like you're starved or something."

He poured some of the dry nuggets into a little ceramic dish on the windowsill. The old feline descended upon the small pile feverously.

Hisagi Shuuhei sat down on the right half of the small sofa that was up against the wall, picking up the guitar that was stretched across the left. He leaned his head back and listened to the sounds of the Mediterranean that drifted over from the open window, his fingers lazily plucking the worn nylon strings.

"Shuuhei," Lilynette said as she opened their door, appearing from around the corner. "I don't think you're gonna need to buy a new board."

"Oh?" he said with a smirk, standing, placing his guitar back onto the sofa. "You gonna let me ride that little thing of yours?"

She got closer and he saw that she was holding a torn envelope in one hand and an unfolded letter in the other. His smirk fell slightly as she got close to him.

"That what we've been waiting for?" He didn't need to ask.

"Yep."

"When does she want us to move out?"

"It doesn't say," Lilynette said, handing him the letter as she took off her bikini top and headed for the shower. "But knowing Harribel, yesterday would have been perfect."

* * *

"Oh," Starrk said with a yawn, "so that's why Barragan isn't here."

Under her tall collar, Harribel almost smiled. After almost fifteen minutes of spouting trivial information, Ichimaru Gin had finally gotten to his point: Aizen Sousuke wanted them to prepare for another siege on the Royal Guard. Considering that the last attack had almost claimed the _Segunda _Espada's life, it was kind of humorous that Gin had decided to leave Barragan Luisenbarn out of the meeting. Starrk's delivery of the statement had only made it funnier.

She smiled anyway.

"Ain't like the two a' you can't tell him later," Gin said, switching topics almost immediately. "Aizen wants y'all ready by the end of the week."

"End of the week?" Harribel asked, incredulously. "We've only just sent out search parties to look for Hollow strong enough to be made into Arrancar. _Surely_ he can't expect another army to be created in less than six months?"

"Of course he doesn't, Harribel," Gin said, turning his smile upon her. "He _expects _his Espada to be able to handle this mission."

Harribel bit back a curse, remaining silent as the Shinigami smugly grinned.

"Unless you aren't up to the task?"

"No," she said, cutting her teal eyes away from him. "We will double our efforts."

"I'd hope so, for your sake," Gin said, walking towards the door. "Be ready by the week's end."

The silver-haired man walked out of the room, leaving the two Espada alone in the top of the tower. Starrk looked at her and shrugged as he rose from his chair.

"I guess that's that," he said, holding a hand out to her. She took it and he helped her rise from her seat. They both walked out into the main hall, Ichimaru Gin nowhere to be found. They took a left and headed towards the staircase that would bring them down to their rooms.

_This could pose some serious trouble, _she thought as she walked next to her silent companion. _If Aizen is seriously prepared to attack the King again – right _now – _my plans are going to fall apart completely._

Over the past six months, Aizen had requested that the Espada spend their time searching out replacements for the Arrancar they'd lost against the King's forces. After Barragan's humiliating defeat, they'd all but given up on confronting the Royal Guard, especially on their home turf. For Aizen to suddenly repeat his former mistakes was an infuriating notion.

Especially because this new strategy of his would ruin what she'd just set into motion.

She'd _finally_ thought the time was right. Aizen and Gin and the Vizards were all distracted by the King's army; they wouldn't see Soul Society's attack coming until it was too late. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra had just sent Neliel out to get Soi Fon moving towards Japan, and she herself had just made contact with Lilynette and her Shinigami for the first time in over a year. She had simply sent a letter to the duo, telling them to go east, that she would contact them as soon as she knew more information.

If they were being sent out to fight the Zero Squad again, she had a sinking suspicion that she wouldn't be able to focus on the duo.

"So," Starrk said, breaking his self-imposed silence. "What do you think Aizen has up his sleeve?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't tell me that you bought that nonsense. Aizen is far too smart to just send us out to get slaughtered."

"Then why else would he send _Ichimaru_ here to tell us that?"

"I dunno," he said as the exited the stairwell. "But I can tell from your eyes that you agree with me."

Her jaw clenched under her collar. He was still very good at reading her non-verbal cues.

Still, if he was assuming that she agreed with him out of fear of getting killed, that was a tremendous relief. She was already having to adjust her plans to dart around behind Aizen and Ichimaru. The last thing she needed was to have Starrk become an obstacle.

They rounded a corner and saw Grimmjow Jaggerjaquez walking towards them, his hands in his pockets as he headed down the hall to the stairs that they'd just left. Despite their alliance and newfound companionship, she didn't dare speak to him outside of an Espada meeting session. Stopping him in the halls and talking to him would be an absurd destruction of her character and only serve to cast suspicion upon her. She figured that she could probably speak with Ulquiorra in public without question, but Grimmjow was definitely not an option.

Ulquiorra Cifer and Grimmjow Jaggerjaquez were purposefully making the rest of the Espada wary of them, thus allowing Harribel to move in the shadows, free from scrutiny. While the two of them did occasionaly visit her in her quarters, it was such a rare occurrence that nobody really questioned it. After all, what would Tia Harribel, the woman that almost single-handedly rebuilt Aizen's army for him, want with those two wannabe Shinigami?

As she passed him, however, her teal eyes risked a glance past Starrk and at Grimmjow. She caught him with a quick glare, the urgency in her expression not at all lost in translation:

_I need to talk to you._

He flicked his eyes away, albeit slowly, and continued walking. She knew that she would be seeing him soon, that he would return to this tower before the afternoon was over.

"I've been thinking," Starrk said, breaking their silence as they neared her room. "About calling Lilynette home."

"Oh?"

_That's not good, _Harribel thought. _I need her now more than ever._

"Yeah," he replied, following her into her room. "Last I heard from her, she was still in Africa."

_Not anymore._

"And how is her mission going?" Harribel asked, walking out to her balcony. "Has she gotten that Shinigami she's with to trust her yet?"

"She said that he doesn't see her as a threat anymore," he said, following her outside. "So she's basically exactly where we want her. But now with Aizen sending just us Espada to fight, we may need her to come back."

"Right."

This was bad. She needed Lilynette to stay her course. Starrk was still under the impression that the mission _he'd_ sent the girl on was what she was doing, but Lilynette had long since been following _her_ orders. Even back before they'd overtaken _Las Noches, _almost twenty five years ago, Starrk's other half had been working to further Harribel's own ambitions.

Back when Aizen had faked his death, she and Apache had been sought out by their hidden leader. The two of them had tried to abandon their lives as soldiers, but he'd demanded that Harribel still follow under him. Knowing how much stronger than her he was, she couldn't do much if she wanted to live. Or escape. She'd waited until the Shinigami had finished ransacking the palace before she'd returned. It was then that she had met up with Starrk and Lilynette.

The girl was all but dragging him towards the massive building, yelling and kicking at him to hurry up. Her eyes had lit up almost immediately upon seeing the other two women appear. Once Harribel had explained to the duo that Aizen was alive, alongside Barragan and Yammy as she'd found out later, Starrk had pretty much run away. Lilynette had assumed that he was going out into the desert to find Aizen and to make sure for himself, but nobody ever really knew what Starrk was thinking.

Despite her other half's self-imposed debt to Aizen Sousuke, Lilynette came out that she didn't really care much for the Shinigami or his plans. As the trio of women spent days ridding the halls and spires of Las Noches from unwanted Hollow, a plan slowly began to form against Aizen. Even though Starrk would undoubtedly remain loyal to him, Lilynette remained confident that she could somehow sway him if their plan worked. They would have to find a way to bring Aizen down from the inside, no matter what the cost.

When he'd reappeared and entrusted Harribel with the _hougyoku, _asking her to keep it safe while he remained in hiding, she'd finally seen her opening. He'd basically put her in charge of recreating his army. Every new Arrancar that she watched be created, she had a level of loyalty from. They all knew that Aizen was their leader, but Harribel was their commander. Most of the new Espada, with the exception of Apache and Lilynette, had to be kept in the dark – their loyalties to Aizen were too strong to turn.

Once the Vizards had joined up with them, for whatever reasons, Harribel had faced her first major setback. Rather, it was a schism. Apache had become so enraged at the thought of an allegiance between Arrancar and Shinigami that she'd almost left the organization altogether. Harribel had been able to sway her into staying, but the resentment for the soul reapers had made working with her almost impossible.

Lilynette, on the other hand, had been enthusiastic about their new allies, claiming that the Hollowfied Shinigami would prove to be a good distraction for Aizen. Unfortunately, this made the ever-loyal Apache extremely jealous of her fellow Espada; while the spitfire brunette was causing Harribel's life to become more difficult, Starrk's _fracción _was becoming more and more valued.

Harribel sighed, turning away from the view of her balcony. She knew that Lilynette and Apache would one day to come to blows, but she had hoped that they would be able to refrain from killing one another. Nevertheless, Apache's spite for Shinigami clouded her mind so much that, even at her Lady's behest, she couldn't learn to work alongside Lilynette. While she was saddened to hear of her _fracción's _death, she knew it was for the best.

It felt like betrayal.

But it was for the best.

_Still, _she thought as Starrk followed her into her white room. _I can't even imagine how Lilynette feels._

"So," Starrk said. "I'm gonna go eat and take a nap. Would you care to join me?"

"Not today," Harribel said, unzipping her collar. "I need to start planning."

"Suit yourself," Starrk said with a lazy smirk as she took off her shirt, exposing her marred mask.

In her battle with Madarame Ikkaku, she had lost a quarter of the bone that had covered her mouth after his zanpakuto had sliced it away. Then, in a battle with Kurosaki Isshin, all but her chest pieces had been hacked away. She had decided to keep it this way – she'd always had a problem with her hideous mask, going to great lengths to keep it hidden from view. Now that most of it was gone, she still kept her face concealed, but it was out of fear that she would be ridiculed for her self-conscious doubts. Only Starrk, Grimmjow, and Ulquiorra had ever seen her without her collar up.

Starrk stepped closer to her, planting a soft kiss on her exposed lips. She leaned into it, returning the kiss with equal passion as he touched her. He pulled away, his steel-colored eyes regarding her with something that could only be read as happiness. He left his eyes on her for a moment longer before turning away completely.

Harribel watched him go before letting out a sigh. She sat down on the large white sofa that took up the center of her room, rubbing her temples in frustration.

_I hope you're right about him, Lilynette, _she thought as Grimmjow and Ulquiorra entered her room. _I hope you're right._

* * *

_**author's note**_

_my usual thanks to **matsumama, jazzpha, and f1ymordecai **for giving this beast a once over for me. _

_also, i think i love higagi/lilynette. at least in this chapter. also, i love surfing if you couldn't tell. the name of the chapter is the name of the town is also the name of a song. as jazzpha will attest to, it's a great song. give it a listen, if you can find it. i think it's on lastfm._

_go ahead and drop me a **review **if you would be so kind; i love hearing what you think. _

_also, speaking of reviews, i just realized that **grinja **has been reading and reviewing - **quite literally** - from the very beginning of these stories. super huge thanks to you, kind reader!_

_i'll catch you guys on the flipside._

_jta~!_

_**sidi bou said - eyvind kang**_


	5. Atom Heart Mother

_**Atom Heart Mother**_

_ No. _

_No, this isn't happening. _

_It's all a dream._

_ Unohana Retsu was having this dream more and more frequently. In it, she was lucid enough to realize that she wasn't within the realm of reality, but the nightmare itself still gripped her tightly. She couldn't ever escape from it. She was forced, sometimes nightly, to re-watch one of her life's most painful memories. Feeling all her old emotions while watching the event unfold from the outside._

_ She stood petrified on a street in Heraklion, Crete. She was surprised at where the dream had placed her this time. Normally she was further away than this, sometimes as far as the docks. Usually, though, she was stuck watching out of the third story window of the building to her left. She knew it was one of the marina's boathouses. _

_ She suddenly felt dizzy, as though her realization of the difference between dream and reality was pulling her out of slumber. The feeling quickly subsided and she sank back into the nightmare, her body heavy. She'd surrendered to her fate, for now. She knew the routine. In a few moments, she would be struggling to save herself, to change the past._

_In her normal dreams, she could never move once everything began to go awry. While she wasn't stuck inside of a marina office this time, three floors above the ground, she knew it didn't matter. She could be street level or out in the harbor or sitting two feet away from the café. The process would only be repeated again. She would be forced to watch, just like always._

_Just like always._

_Her dream-eyes turned, hazily, to watch the two figures sitting in the warm Greek sun. Her blue irises followed the waiter as he stepped up to their table, his hand skillfully dropping off their food. She watched as her past-self, sitting carelessly at the table, turned and thanked the server with a smile. She watched as Shunsui ordered another drink, his brown eyes glancing over to her to see if she wanted another as well. She, like every night, declined. _

_She would give the world to change her mind, to have a drink with him one last time._

_Retsu could still remember the smell of the food she'd ordered that day, the oiled peas and artichokes touching her dream nose in a manner impossible while awake. She could remember the gulls cawing overhead, their questioning squawks like unappreciated music. The feel of the tablecloth beneath her tired hands, the shine of the sunlight through the fresh bottle of _ouzo _that Shunsui had ordered, the lingering taste of her _meze _appetizer on the back of her tongue._

_Her sleeping-self watched all of this fly by in that ethereal way that a dream flies by. Sensations that where fleeting back then lasted for eternities now, while entire conversations that she'd had with her old friend would flash by in a nanosecond. But no matter the present, her nebulous mind was struggling to focus on the coming and inevitable future. She knew very well how time would slow for her then._

_The _garganta _opened behind Shunsui and Ulquiorra Cifer stepped through it._

_Upon waking, she would always recall the end of a novel she'd read. The protagonist was in a war and had been planning a surprise attack on the enemy forces. He'd been planning to blow up their bridge, disabling their only supply route. The young man wound up getting shot, despite succeeding in setting off the explosives. It was one of her absolute favorite books – she read it time and again. But every time she got to the final five pages, she would beg and plead with the printed words. She would hope that her prayers would stop the young man from making that fatal error that would cost him his life._

_Her nightmares were the exact same. They provided her the time to slow down everything and finally understand what went so terribly wrong that afternoon, no matter how much she wished things would go differently. When she'd escaped back then, she couldn't understand why the fight had finished as quickly as it did. Somehow, her dreams allowed her to watch the subtle details in pristine clarity, over and over and night after night._

_ She watched with painful clarity as Kyouraku Shunsui slid back on his chair's legs and unsheathed his larger blade. She saw herself stand up rod-straight at the table as her fellow Shinigami leapt forward, his zanpakuto aiming for her former lieutenant's throat. She watched as Ulquiorra stood stone still as the people around him scrambled away in confused fear. And, with helplessness, her dream-self saw what neither of them had been able to see that day._

_ She watched as Ichimaru Gin emerged from inside the restaurant, _Shinsou _already pulled and ready to attack._

_ Only then did she try to move from the spot her dream had placed her, but she was to fail. It never mattered. She would always fail to rush in and assist herself._

_ Shunsui somehow saw the glint of Gin's blade as it extended towards him, whipping out his own _wakizashi _and blocking the sword. She herself rushed forward as Shunsui turned to face Gin, pulling out her own zanpakuto as she leapt upon the table and over her companion. She struck down against Ulquiorra's chest, but he'd vanished in a buzz. She'd never exactly faced her former lieutenant in a duel before; she knew he was strong, but she'd never seen him perform in a life or death scenario. She regretted that now was the time to cut her teeth._

_ He reappeared to her right, just outside the café's borders. She struck out at him, her _nodachi's _tip barely missing his flesh. The cloth of his shirt opened quickly, exposing the renewed __**4**__ tattooed over his chest. He quickly burst away, his thin body headed towards a nearby alleyway. She gave a small glance over her shoulder, watching as Shunsui sparred against Gin._

_ Her subconscious struggled to stay behind with her friend but she was torn away from that battle. Though her nightmares could show her more than she'd noticed on that day, she couldn't dream about what she'd never seen. She was forcibly made to watch her confrontation with Ulquiorra Cifer as it moved further and further away from Shunsui._

_ She was suddenly in the alleyway, her dream-self watching as she caught up to the Espada in the confined space. She watched helplessly as her past clashed between buildings, the stucco walls echoing the sounds of steel on steel. _

_Ulquiorra suddenly pinned her blade against the ground with his own. She readied herself to counter when his free hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. She looked at him in surprise as he released her zanpakuto from the floor. She remembered his touch that day. It had been firm but gentle. She'd almost let go of her sword._

"_Captain Unohana," he said, with respect. "Please do not fight me any longer."_

"_Ulquiorra," she said, foregoing his old title. "What are you doing?"_

"_I'm letting you go."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because," he said, his pale hand sliding his zanpakuto into its sheath. "Aizen has no interest in capturing you."_

_Aizen?_

_She was suddenly outside of the alleyway, her eyes scanning the streets. Shunsui was impaled upon Gin's sword, his back pinned to the ground as _Shinsou _jabbed through his right shoulder. Ichimaru was hovering over him and Aizen Sousuke was standing above them all. His brown eyes cut over to her._

"_Captain-commander Unohana," he said softly. "What a pleasure it is to see you again."_

_In her silence, her dreaming mind recalled the painful dryness that had reached her mouth at that moment. She'd thought Aizen was dead. To see him alive and in front of her was almost physically painful. _

_Shunsui cried out in anguish as Gin pushed down upon him, harder._

_A buzz of _sonído _sounded behind her and she turned, quickly. Ulquiorra was standing behind her, a large gash in his side. She hadn't done that to him. He must have stabbed himself once she'd fled, to give the appearance that he'd at least struggled against her while they were out of sight. His green eyes glared at her._

_She looked at him solemnly and flashed away, vanishing from the scene. Nobody tried to follow her._

_*******_

Unohana Retsu bolted up from her bed, the soft sheets that she slept on curled at her waist. Her heart was beating steadily in her chest. She whimpered as she came out of the nightmare, like a child. Her hand slowly came up to her face and she rubbed her eyes. Despite the frequency of the dream, she still woke up from them feeling cold.

The sun was already in the sky, light pouring in through the open window by her bed. She looked out over the flat land, at the demolished city and the steppes beyond. The skies were completely clear today and the air looked chilly. She just hoped that spring would be here soon. She was tired of the cold, dark winter.

She kicked her legs out from under the bed-sheets, her silk nightgown flowing white in the morning sunlight. She walked over to a pile of clothes that were stacked upon her desk, picking out the cleanest pair of jeans. She knew that they _should _be considered dirty, but she never had the time to wash them. It wasn't like anyone in the crumbling city would really care. She stepped into one leg and then the other, pulling the denim up and over her thighs. She decided that the nightgown would remain over her shoulders for the day – it was a suitable replacement for a real shirt. She plucked a thick jacket from a stand against the wall and headed for the door, grabbing _Minazuki _on the way.

Her door opened before her fingertips touched the knob. She almost bumped into Kuchiki Byakuya.

"Captain Kuchiki," she said as she looked up into his face, "you look rather urgent."

"My apologies, Captain," he said, stepping out of her way. "But Kurosaki Ichigo has finally returned."

"Oh," she said, her expression lighting up. "Very good. Shall we go and meet him, then?"

Byakuya fell into line behind her, relieved that she was looking better at the news. He knew that she was plagued by nightmares. She'd told him about Aizen and Gin capturing Shunsui back when she'd been in Greece, almost a year ago. What she never admitted to, however, was whether or not the nightmares and the kidnapping were related.

Byakuya wasn't blind enough to miss the probable connection.

Still, it was nice to see her smile right away – he'd seen her act sullen all day after a night of bad dreams.

They exited the hallway and entered the ground-floor lobby of their building. It was a hotel, but the family that owned it allowed them to stay there indefinitely, free of charge. They considered the services that these Shinigami gave to the town were payment enough. Hollow exterminators seemed to be in high demand all over the world.

After leaving Greece, Unohana had headed back towards Japan. She may have been chasing Aizen, she didn't know. Or, at least, she never said anything about her reasons. She had run into Kurosaki Ichigo back when she'd crossed the Mediterranean and landed on the Arabian peninsula. He'd teamed up with her reluctantly, claiming that he was still looking for something out in the desert. She'd told him that he could return to look whenever he wanted, but for now she needed his help.

Like most of her debates, she'd won it quickly.

The two of them had found Byakuya in Baghdad. He'd been drawn to the city because of the presence of so many Hollow in one location. The conflicts that were already plaguing the region had spawned an abnormally high number of fallen souls, and their presence, in turn, attracted even more monsters. He'd spent nearly eleven months between those two rivers when Unohana and Ichigo had arrived, the two of them also lured by the number of Hollow.

At the time, he hadn't exactly been _pleased_ to see them.

Had they showed up six months earlier, things might have been different. But he'd spent almost a year, exterminating hordes of monsters, alone. Alone in a xenophobic culture. That year of his life had been all but unbearable – he risked his neck almost every second of the day to save these people and he was only met with aggression and violence. Had he been a regular human, they would have certainly killed him. He couldn't count how many times he'd almost snapped, almost decapitated someone.

One of the few people that had actually spoken to him had been a young boy that he'd saved from the wreckage of a burning car. A hidden explosive had gone off under the tires, killing the boy's family and leaving him trapped inside the flames. Byakuya had pulled him out, only to be spit on by a crowd of onlookers. Even the boy had told him to go away, that they hated his kind, that he'd rather see the noble Shinigami be beheaded than to be helped by him.

His exterminations, his hours spent clearing the streets of monsters and purifying souls, only seemed to fuel the local conflict more. Every morning he'd wake up to another explosion outside of his building. He could only assume that with fewer Hollow around to attack the city, the soldiers could continue their warring unimpeded. Byakuya had no idea who was fighting for what reasons. He just knew that he couldn't leave the city without destroying as many of the beasts as possible.

The locals could go on killing each other for forever after that.

He'd become a bit more savage in his solitude. That's how he perceived it, at least. A normal person would probably say he was just 'less noble', but that could not explain the more murderous tendencies he had developed in the desert city. Where he used to eliminate Hollow out of a sense of duty, he found himself enjoying the killing more and more as time went on. Without the peering eyes of peers or subordinates, he would even begin to laugh as he sliced through monstrous flesh. The loneliness was certainly beginning to affect him.

So when the first Shinigami he saw after a year solitude wound up being Kurosaki Ichigo, Byakuya had snapped.

Perhaps it was because of his still-harbored resentment towards the younger Shinigami, but something about seeing him caused Byakuya to attack. He'd immediately sprung forward, slashing at Ichigo's smiling, friendly face. The younger man's excitement had melted into confusion and anger as he blocked the strike. Despite rearing back for another slash, there hadn't been time for a second attack – Unohana had quickly trapped Byakuya in a _Rikujoukourou._

After a night spent calming down, he'd left Iraq with his fellow Shinigami. He was told that he'd apologized to Ichigo, _profusely. _He didn't believe that he would, not back then at least. Despite himself, spending a year fighting Hollow with Ichigo at his side had made the younger man a bit more tolerable.

He might even go so far as to say that Ichigo was likeable.

Byakuya and Unohana walked through the lobby of the hotel and were immediately greeted by the old woman that ran the kitchen. She hobbled slightly as she approached them, a pair of Styrofoam cups in her wrinkled hands. Byakuya knew what was in them already – _Süütei Tsai, _a salty milk tea, a local delicacy. He'd taken a liking to it over the past few months, even though he'd been repulsed by the drink at first. Turning down any sort of offering in Mongolia was considered extremely rude, and considering that the old woman offered up the salted milk every time she saw them, Byakuya really hadn't had any choice but to learn to like it.

"Thank you very much, Bolormaa," Unohana said, her voice sounding like silk in Mongolian.

"Of course, of course," the old woman said, handing the drink to Byakuya. "Drink, drink! It will make you even more handsome, prince."

Byakuya smiled at the nickname, despite himself.

"What can we expect for dinner tonight, mother?" Unohana asked.

"Stew and buuz."

_Like always, _Byakuya thought, rolling his eyes. The days of eating custom-made feasts in the Kuchiki manor were all but ghosts to him.

"Would it be too much trouble for you to make an extra plate?" Unohana asked. "We'll be having company tonight."

"The orange boy is coming back?"

"Yes," Byakuya said, walking to the door. "We're going to meet him at the train station now."

"Oh good," the old woman said as she turned and hobbled away, towards the bowels of the kitchen. Her daughters were peeking out from the shadows, their eyes trained on the Kuchiki noble like always. "Oh good, oh good."

Byakuya opened the door and allowed Unohana to step through before he followed her out onto the streets of Ulaanbaatar. He bit down and groaned as a stinging wind ripped through his jacket. He was glad that the train station wasn't very far away – if he had to spend more than twenty minutes out in this horrid winter air, he would probably freeze to death. He wasn't used to the harsh cold of these high plateaus.

Ulaanbaatar was the easternmost habitable city in the entire world. Everything beyond the eastern steppes was too close to Karakura for there to be a livable area left standing. He'd heard rumors that the destruction spread all the way across the Pacific, to California. He doubted that the Hollow could cross the ocean is such strong numbers, but he'd seen stranger things in his travels.

Being that this city was on the cusp of a deadly ring, Unohana had demanded to stay here to help the people survive. It was almost constant work, but, unlike in Iraq, they were rewarded with the thanks of the people. They never had to pay for a meal, even though they left money anyway. They were loved in this city. It was a refreshing feeling to see smiling faces as they walked down the street towards the trains.

They stepped into the stationhouse, walking under oddly Greco-roman arches as they got out of the wind's harsh torrents. The train was pulling in as they entered and they stopped at the back wall, looking out the door at the platforms. With a loud squeal, the locomotive stopped and opened its doors. People began to come out slowly, visibly bracing themselves. Whether it was for the cold or for the Hollow, Byakuya didn't know. But these people were coming back to a safer home, whether they knew it or not.

And there he was. Only a blind person would be able to miss the shock of orange hair that stepped out of the train's open doors. He turned and smiled at them, waving, lifting a backpack up and onto his shoulders as he walked towards the building's large doors.

"Captain Unohana," he said with a small bow.

"Captain Kurosaki," she said, returning the gesture.

"Byakuya," he said, extending a hand. They gripped each other's forearms tightly.

"Still impertinent as ever, I see," Byakuya said with a tiny smile, "Kurosaki Ichigo."

"So," Ichigo said, his already wide smile growing larger. "You'll never guess who found me while I was out and about."

"'Who'?" Unohana said before her eyes widened as she looked over Ichigo's shoulder at the pair of Shinigami that were approaching them.

"Captain Unohana," Urahara Kisuke said with a smile as Yoruichi Shihouin walked next to him, "how wonderful it is to see you again."

* * *

_She whimpered softly as she hid behind a large rock outcropping. Pesche and Dondochakka were gone. She couldn't remember what had happened to them but she knew that she was alone. She felt so lonely since they were gone. She was so afraid by herself._

_ She trembled as the ground beneath her shook. The giant _Adjuchas _were getting closer. They could smell her. They knew where she was. It was only a matter of time before they discovered her, hidden behind this rock, tears in her little eyes. She had wet herself long ago, when she'd first started running, and the damp cloth between her legs was beginning to chafe at the skin of her legs. She was ashamed, but she couldn't help it._

_ Nel Tu cowered once more as one of the _Adjuchas' _snouts poked around her hiding place, its massive nostrils flaring as it sniffed for her. She tightened up into a tighter ball, her little hands reaching up and grabbing the broken mask on the top of her head. She bit down on her tongue, the salty taste of blood filling her mouth as she struggled not to make a sound._

_ The boulder at her back suddenly exploded, the _Adjuchas _crashing its massive palm_ _into the stone. Nel scrambled and scuttled through the sand, trying her hardest to put some distance between herself and the monsters that were trying to eat her. _

_She wasn't fast enough._

_ "Oh look, Torguraa," the _Adjuchas _said as he scooped her up in his massive paws. "We finally found her."_

_ "Don't hog it then, Bowyee," the other Hollow hissed. "Split her up. She's got plenty of _reiatsu _to share."_

_ "Calm down," the first beast said as he gripped her body with both hands and started to pull. "I'm gettin' to it."_

_ He started to tug at her legs, pulling them away from the rest of her body. She screamed out in pain as her spine began to pop from the pressure. She could somehow feel the hot tears stream down her face, despite the overwhelming agony that her belly was going through. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to be torn in half and eaten. She just wanted friends again. She just wanted someone to play with._

_ Then she was falling. Bowyee's hands were still wrapped around her, but they weren't attached to him any longer. She heard a painful roar as she hit the sands below. She wriggled out from between dead fingers, her own tiny hands gripping loose sand as she turned her body over to look out at the eternal moon of Hueco Mundo._

_ With a flash, the _Adjuchas _that had been ripping her in half fell to the ground. Another swath of light sent the second Hollow to the floor, both of them disintegrating into the everlasting night. Nel whimpered as a flicker of moonlight, reflected off of a sword, shined on her. There was an Arrancar standing in front of her, his face silhouetted by the dim moon. He sheathed his zanpakuto and took a few steps towards her. She trembled and hid her eyes with her hands._

_ "Neliel?" the Arrancar above her asked, his voice ripe with shock. She peeked her eyes out from between her fingers and looked at this frightening warrior. Who was he? How did he know her? His light blonde hair was disheveled and flecked with blood, the gold and red locks framing his slender face. He had a large gash running down the left side of his chest, the white of his uniform now stained brown with old blood. He had an eye-patch over his right eye. _

_That was familiar. The patch looked familiar._

_Who was he? She started to remember him, a fuzzy memory emerging from the basement of her mind._

_He took another step towards her._

"_Neliel," he knelt down on one knee and looked at her, his voice soft. "It _is _you. How did you escape _Las Noches_? Where are your two _fracción_?"_

_Nel cowered a little less as he gently spoke, but still shot him a glare._

"_Nel doesn't know you," she said with a growl. "Nel doesn't want to talk to you."_

"_So," he said as he stood, "you lost your memories once you took on that form again? Interesting."_

"_What are you talking about? Nel is confused!"_

"_Don't worry about it," he said, turning around. "If you're going to act like this, I have no need for you."_

"_No wait!" she said. He turned to her and she ducked her head down in embarrassment. _

"_Wait?" he asked, a faint smile playing on his lips. "You just said that you didn't want to talk to me."_

"_Yes, but," she said, "Nel is lonely. And afraid. She didn't mean it. She can talk to you if you want."_

_He laughed gently and walked towards her. She didn't cower, even as he reached a gloved hand out towards her._

"_I'm Tesla."_

_She smiled and placed her own tiny hand into his palm. He reached down and grabbed her by the waist, picking her up and placing her on his shoulders. She grinned and made sure that her heel didn't touch the cut in his chest._

"_So you don't remember me at all?" he asked as he started walking, his gloved hands holding her small ankles. "Nel, was it?"_

"_Nope," she said, placing her chin down on the top of his head. "Nel has a bad memory."_

"_I guess," he said softly, looking out at the barren, moonlit desert. "I guess that's probably for the best." _

_*******_

Neliel Tu Oderschvank opened her eyes slowly as the train pulled into the station. She had fallen asleep and now her face was up against the window of the train, the cold glass leaving a chilled red circle on her cheek. She yawned and stretched, pulling her arms from beneath the blanket that was draped over her shoulders. She blinked once, twice, and looked around the small train compartment.

Soi Fon was asleep across the room from her, her thin body sprawled across the bench. Another blanket was wrapped around the Shinigami. Even though this was a public room on the train, nobody had attempted to share it with them. This was understandable; she figured that two women with swords, and three arms between, them wasn't a very inviting sight. Still, with how little Soi Fon talked, some other company would have been nice.

Neliel yawned again and stood up. She walked over to Soi Fon and tapped her lightly on the shoulder. The Shinigami's eyes flew open and she gripped the Arrancar's wrist. Her silver irises were trained hard on the smiling face above her.

"Come on, Soi Fon," Neliel said, unsurprised at the violent reaction. "After you fell asleep, they gave an announcement saying that the dining car was closed. We should probably eat in the station."

"Yeah," Soi Fon said as she sat up. "Alright."

Soi groaned as she moved her left shoulder. Her stump always hurt more in the cold, and the train was kept very, very cold. Iceland, when it wasn't dead winter, at least remained moderately pleasant. Because of the ocean winds, it never got too bad. But here in continental Europe, it was just miserable.

She looked out the window, reading some signs. The _gigai _she was wearing translated them for her, but she could still see that they were all written in the Cyrillic alphabet. She pulled out her station schedule and double-checked it. That meant that they were either in Russia or the Ukraine. Since it was still light out, barely, she assumed that it was the latter. They'd been train-hopping since Paris, the only airport that was still receiving traffic from Iceland. She was starting to get good at memorizing their routes.

"Soi Fon," Neliel said, poking her face back into the room. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah," she said, rubbing her shoulder again and standing. "I'm coming."

Soi didn't know much about her Arrancar companion, other than she was extremely friendly. When Soi Fon had finally decided to trust her, their conversations had been mostly about Grimmjow. She'd spent most of their introductory period asking questions about him. It was a little embarrassing now, but she really didn't care; she wanted to know everything about him and how he was and what he'd been doing. Neliel, in her infinite pleasantness, had been happy to oblige.

But since their flight landed, their conversations consisted mostly of empty commentary on whatever country they were passing through. Sometimes they'd have to make a collective decision on their route, but they'd long since ironed their plans out. Soi didn't ask about Neliel's past and the Arrancar returned the favor. She recalled Captain Kurosaki mentioning her in a report, back from the first War with Aizen, but outside of his recollection, the Arrancar was considered either dead or missing. She didn't need to know any more than that, anyway. She'd helped the Shinigami before and, for some reason all these years later, was helping them again. That was enough back story for Soi Fon. These days, anyway.

They slid open the door to their room and walked out into the train proper. Their feet brushed silently over the green carpet below, the cold air smelling faintly of mildew. Their emergence into the car caused some worried looks from the newer passengers, but most of the people on the train new that these two women probably meant them no harm.

"Ugh," Soi groaned, breaking their traditional trend of silence. "It looks frigid out there."

"I know," Neliel replied, cheerfully. "They aren't even opening the doors unless you ask them to."

"Wonderful."

"Your arm's bothering you?"

Soi's eyebrows knotted. "What makes you think that?"

"You've been rubbing at it all day," she said. "The cold weather, if I had to guess."

"Yeah. The weather."

"Well," Neliel said as they stopped for a man putting his luggage up onto an overhead ledge. Her smile broadened. "Let's get something warm into you. That should help."

_Talking to this Arrancar, _Soi Fon thought with a smile,_ is like talking to my mother. Or to Captain Unohana._

"What do you think they have to eat out there?" Neliel asked.

"I don't know. I've never been to Kiev before."

"Is that where we are?"

"I think so," Soi said. It felt good to talk to this other woman. She'd have to do it more often.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Neliel said as they approached the doors, flashing a smile at the doorman. "Whatever they've got to eat, I'm gonna order ten of them."

Soi Fon chuckled lightly as the doors opened. She went to step out when another woman got in her way. She wasn't paying attention, but yelling something over her shoulder, in Japanese. Soi Fon couldn't hear what she was saying, but it didn't matter.

She knew this woman.

Yadomaru Lisa.

A Vizard.

"_Shit,"_ Soi hissed as she whipped out her Zanpakuto. Lisa turned, her green eyes widening in shock behind her thin glasses.

"_You?" _she sputtered as Soi Fon slashed at her neck with _Suzumebachi. _Lisa brought up her own zanpakuto, the _nodachi's _scabbardblocking the other blade.

Soi Fon had no idea what she was doing here. Following her? Were the Aizen and the Vizards preparing to take them out for good? Why else would she be here? Why would—

"Captain Soi Fon!" came a panicked voice from down the platform, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Captain Soi Fon, _wait_!"

She ricked flicking her eyes over to the source of the voice. Her jaw almost fell open at what she saw. Yumichika was running down the platform, waving his hands out in front of him despite the fact that he was carrying soup in them.

"L-lieutenant Ayasegawa?" Soi Fon stammered in surprise as Lisa's fist plowed into her jaw and everything went dark.

* * *

**_author's note_**

_cold cold cold. i think my writing is reflecting how much i can't wait for warm weather again._

_as i guess you guys can see, things are moving along. and looking far more optimistic than they did when **Anonymous **ended. huge thanks to everyone whoe trudged through that with me._

_thanks as always go out to my triumvirate of betas: **jazzpha, matsumama, and f1ymordecai. **if you guys have deprived yourselves of their works, i recommend fixing that._

_fly away,_

_jta~!_

_**atom heart mother - pink floyd**_


	6. So Much to Say

_**So Much to Say**_

Yumichika was going to kill her.

Yadomaru Lisa had been nothing but a pain in his ass since they'd left New York City. He'd paid for the plane tickets to Budapest. He'd paid for the train tickets to Kiev. He'd _just _paid for their tickets toVolgograd, and now she was telling him to buy her a bowl of _borscht? _She didn't ask for it, she told him to buy it for her.

She never _asked_ for anything. She just demanded it. Whenever he would even groan out a sigh of disapproval, she would give him this… _look. _It made him feel like scum. He took a wrong turn in a station and he got the look. He pulled out his flask and he got the look. He didn't _offer _to constantly pay her way?

_The look._

He cut his eyes over to her, pulling a cigarette out of his jacket when she looked away. He lit it and slid the lighter back down into his pants pocket, his eyes trailing up along her long, denim-clad legs. He hated her very much, but he _loved _to look at her. It was a very confusing set of opinions to have on a person. He was starting to think that his id had taken to getting him lost on purpose. That way she would get mad and take the lead and he could walk behind her.

Which was always a great view.

Someone save him if she ever caught him looking at her butt, though. He'd supposedly gotten drunk one night and had made some sort of lewd comment toward her; at least that's what she'd told him the next day since he couldn't recall it for himself. He still had a bit of a shiner under his left eye, so he believed her.

She let out a huff next to him. He didn't look at her. She always ignored him when they were travelling, her interest held by any sort of smut she could find. He figured he could ignore her now.

"I'm going to go find us a seat on the train," she said, turning away from their waiting place at the food kiosk. "You think you can manage to not get lost when the soup comes up?"

"_Gee_, I don't know," he grumbled, knowing that she was already walking away, the cigarette in his mouth bobbing up and down. "You may want to put a _leash_ on me."

"Don't tempt me, Shinigami," she called over her shoulder.

He turned his head over his shoulder and watched her walk away. He rolled his eyes, turned back to the kiosk, and pulled his flask out from his jacket pocket. He took a swig from it, the vodka biting at the back of his throat. He screwed the top back on and breathed out harshly as he slipped the silver container back into his coat. He looked back towards the cooks, sneering at the faces they were making.

"What're you lookin' at?" he quipped in Ukrainian. "You're practically Russian, aren't you? Vodka is like your water."

One of the women scowled and tossed the two bowls of soup up onto the counter, the purple liquid sloshing out onto the linoleum. A little girl peeked her head out from below the counter and crinkled her nose at him.

"Thank you _so much," _the woman hissed.

"Whatever," he said, flicking his cigarette down at his feet and grabbing the bowls. "Took you damn long enough."

Yumichika turned and looked for Lisa. He knew that their train was on the south platform but it seemed like _every _train was on the south platform. He didn't want to get on the wrong car again. The ridicule he'd received the first time he'd done that was more than enough.

There she was, straight ahead of him. He dodged and weaved between the crowds of people that seemed to be surging against him. He didn't want to spill the soup – his hands could already feel how hot it was through the paper plates. The last thing he wanted was for some ugly peasant woman to bump into him and spill it onto his actual skin.

"Yumichika, hurry it up!" she called out in Japanese. He clenched his jaw – she had a tendency to revert to Japanese when she was especially irritated at him.

He was gonna _kill _her.

Whatever she said next was drowned out in a burst of familiar _reiatsu. _He saw the rest of the people on the platform duck their heads at the surge. He narrowly avoided an older man's face with the soup in his hands. Considering how dumbfounded he was by the woman he saw ahead of him, her zanpakuto grinding down at Lisa's face, he was lucky to have dodged the pedestrian at all.

Soi Fon.

She didn't know about the Vizards. She didn't know that they were playing Aizen and that Lisa was technically working _for _her.

This was bad.

"Captain Soi Fon!" he yelled as he ran, struggling not to spill the bowls of soup he'd just purchased. "Captain Soi Fon, _wait!"_

She took her eyes of the Vizard for a second. Yumichika spurred himself forward, trying to get between the two women before any blood was spilled. He was only a few feet away when Lisa took the opening from his distraction and landed a vicious hook across Soi Fon's face.

Lisa _punched_ Soi Fon.

Yumichika skidded to a halt and dropped the bowls of soup, the purple liquid splattering on his white shoes as the Shinigami captain fell to the ground. He didn't give a shit about the wasted money or that Lisa was going to scowl at him. That was the least of his worries now. Soi Fon had just been sucker-punched.

His life had just gotten infinitely worse.

_Oh shit, _he thought as he began to run again. _Oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit._

"What the _fuck _are you thinking?" he bellowed at Lisa as he approached. "Do you have _any _idea how much shit I'm gonna get when she wakes up?"

"Don't fuss, pretty-boy," Lisa said, grimacing, shaking her hand. "I've dealt with Soi Fon before. I'm not too worried about it."

"So you know each other, then?"

It was a new voice, belonging to a blonde woman still standing in the train's doorway. Yumichika's violet irises darted to her face and then down to the _katana _that she held in her hand. He could assume that it was harmless, that this woman was another imposter, but that would probably be foolish. She was travelling with a Shinigami captain, after all. He doubted that Soi Fon was patient enough to let a wannabe soul reaper play tag-along.

"Yeah," Yumichika said, his hand sliding down to his own zanpakuto in a silent threat. "I'm Lieutenant Ayasegawa, eleventh squad."

"Lisa," was all the Vizard said.

"Any idea why she attacked you?" the blonde woman asked, leaning down to pick up the unconscious woman at her feet.

"Because I'm a Vizard," Lisa quipped.

"Is _that_ so?" the other woman replied, pausing for a slight second. "Yet you're travelling with this Shinigami? That's rather odd."

Yumichika left Lisa's side to help lift Soi Fon off the ground. He hadn't seen her in over two years now. She'd still been there when he and Ichigo had first gotten to Urahara's place in Kamchatka, but he'd been unconscious. By the time he'd woken up, she'd already left.

Ichigo had told him that she'd lost her arm to Ulquiorra in the assault, but he'd forgotten he'd heard about that. Seeing her missing limb was kind of like a punch to the gut for him. She was someone he considered a friend – he never figured that she or Grimmjow could get hurt like this, so it was kind of unexpected.

"And just who are you?" Lisa quipped as Yumichika placed an arm around Soi's waist, the blonde woman hoisting her up by the right shoulder.

"Neliel Tu Oderschvank," she said, "former Espada."

"_Espada?" _Yumichika snapped, dropping his half of Soi Fon. The Arrancar struggled to keep the limp woman upright but failed. The captain fell to the floor. Neliel glared at the two of them. Yumichika's hand flew back down to his zanpakuto.

"_Former,_" she hissed. "You really think _she'd _be with me if I had something up my sleeve?"

Yumichika glared for a moment longer before he realized that he was gripping the scabbard of his zanpakuto very tightly. He uncurled his fist and flexed his fingers slowly at his waist. His knuckles cracked.

"Fine," he said. "Let's get her back onto the train, then."

"_Let's_," Lisa said, stepping in front of him. "_You_ need to go get more _borscht." _

"Fuck you_, bitch."_

Lisa stopped and snapped her head around to look at Yumichika. Her mouth dangled open slightly but no sounds came out. The effeminate Shinigami was glaring at her, his violet eyes screaming with fury.

"_Excuse me?_" she asked, finally finding her voice. Neliel looked between the two of them, cautiously.

"_You_ can go get the food," Yumichika hissed, continuing, his confidence upped now that he had a possible ally in the unconscious Soi Fon. "I'm sick of your shit, Vizard. You may have some sort of a master plan for us, but that doesn't make me your _fucking_ slave."

Lisa stared at him, her green eyes bulging. Yumichika knew that he was about to get an earful. He'd snapped at her once before, when they'd been on the plane from LaGuardia, and he'd learned his lesson then. Or, he thought he had. Her eyes narrowed and a crease formed above her nose. Her lip curled up, baring a canine.

A black and white sneaker suddenly connected with the Vizard's cheek, knocking her back onto her ass. Yumichika gasped, his eyes flying wide, his open mouth frozen halfway between shock and amusement.

Soi Fon had woken up.

Neliel was already gripping the shorter woman by her shoulders, holding her back from continuing her attack. Yumichika quickly followed the defensive posture and placed himself between the three women, just in time to block Lisa from throwing herself at Soi Fon. The Vizard dug her nails into his shoulders as she struggled to get past him.

"Not a bad hit, Lisa," Soi Fon snapped, pinned by Neliel. "Too bad you still have to wait for me to look away, huh?"

"Big words," Lisa sneered back, "for someone so small."

"Shut the _fuck_ up, Lisa," Yumichika hissed over his shoulder, "and go get the food. _Four_ bowls."

She looked at him for a moment, recognizing the serious intent in his voice and eyes. Whatever she'd been pushing around until this point was gone. She wasn't looking at a pretty-boy anymore. She was looking at the Lieutenant of the eleventh division. For the first time, she could see that he might actually deserve the title. She backed away, almost reluctantly, and began to go get the replacement soups.

"Yeah," Soi Fon snickered after her. "_Try_ and hurry up, Lisa."

The Vizard stopped and turned around to face them again. Yumichika looked at Soi Fon, his eyes wide with frustration. Lisa was beginning to come back.

"_Why?_" he whined, "why would you do that?"

Before the other woman had a chance to reply, a large explosion roared out from behind them. All four of them spun to look as a black plume of smoke began to rise into the air. Yumichika's eyes followed it up into the air as people began to run in panic. His eyes widened as they reached the top of the black tower of smoke.

_No way, _he thought as he looked up. _No fucking way!_

He was looking up at a trio of _Gillian._

An ear-shattering roar made their existence absolute for him. Soi Fon immediately leapt up into the air, her zanpakuto already drawn as a fourth _Menos _joined the group. The Arrancar woman also followed suit, launching herself upwards. Yumichika reached down for the sword at his waist and began to pull it out of the scabbard. His eyes snapped off to his right, somehow catching the only stillness within the chaos. There was a woman lying face down near the food kiosk, the same woman that had given him the soup earlier. He could see the blood that was beginning to pool around her still body. The little girl was kneeling at her side, shaking her and weeping.

Yumichika grunted and shoved his _katana _back into the scabbard forcefully. He turned and started to run towards the injured woman. A hand gripped his wrist. He turned to see Lisa scowling at him, her fist closed tightly around his forearm.

"Where the hell are you going?" she growled.

"To help her," Yumichika yelled as the noise in the train station grew.

"Help her?" Lisa asked, surprised. "Aren't you _eleventh_ squad? What the hell can you do for her?"

Yumichika shook his head and grimaced, turning away. "Eleventh has changed a lot since you were around."

He yanked his wrist free from her grip and began to sprint towards the dying woman in front of him. He was struggling to run through the mass of people that were pushing steadily against him. He took a harsh shoulder into his chest, a much larger man almost knocking him down as he fought against the human torrent. He could barely see the woman anymore. The crowd of people was so thick. They were panicked, their eyes white with an all-consuming fear. They could trample a toddler right now and be completely indifferent.

He looked up and saw one of the _Gillian _towering directly above him, its ghastly mouth hanging open. With a flash of movement, Lisa decapitated it, her small body vanishing quickly afterwards. The towering body fell to the ground, revealing a large _garganta _up in the sky behind it. Two more of the monsters were pulling themselves through. He could see a large light in the depths of the portal, a crescent moon curving upwards into the blackness. Yumichika fought back his instinct to join the fray and ducked his head, running towards the injured woman.

He reached her, sliding on his knees to her side. He pried the little girl away from the body, her face covered in tears and blood, and immediately wished he hadn't looked down at the dying lady. A long piece of rebar was sticking out from her chest, tearing away at her lungs. Yumichika turned away quickly to gather himself, his stomach turning in his belly.

"_You know how to do _what?" Ikkaku's voice bellowed in his head_._

"_Healing kidou," Yumichika had replied, his eyes focused on the beer on the table. He was drunk. He shouldn't have let that slip._

"_When the _hell_ did you learn how to do that?"_

"_A long time ago. Back under Zaraki."_

"_And you kept this a secret why?"_

_Yumichika sipped his beer. "I didn't want you guys to hate me."_

"_Why the _fuck _would I hate you? You're my best friend!"_

"_I don't know!" he grumbled. "That whole bunch of meat-heads looked down on kidou and I figured that—"_

_Ikkaku slapped him on the back of the head._

"_You dipshit," he said, lifting his own mug up to his lips. "That was old eleventh. You've got this killer zanpakuto and you want to hide it still? Just 'cause it's kidou-based?"_

"_It has nothing to do with Ruriiro Kujaku," Yumichika said, sheepishly. "I actually learned the spells on my own."_

"_You say that like it's a bad thing, Yumi."_

"_Well," he sighed, "it didn't have anything to do with fighting, so—"_

_Ikkaku hit him again._

"_You idiot," he growled. "You know enough about fighting to write a book. You're close to getting _bankai_ still, right? How the hell is anyone gonna look down on you?"_

"_I don't know, Ikkaku."_

"_Hey," Ikkaku said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You're my number one guy. You wanna learn some healing kidou? I'm all for it. As long as you promise me you'll teach some of these weakling recruits how to do it."_

"_Why would I do that?"_

"_Because, Yumichika," Ikkaku grinned, "In a squad filled with 'battle-crazed meatheads', I think having a healing unit would be extremely useful."_

_Yumichika grinned. "Yes, captain."_

_I can do this._

Yumichika turned his head back around and looked at the piece of iron that was jutting out of the human woman's ribcage. Her face was pale. She had lost a lot of blood. The girl next to them was crying harder. The woman wasn't breathing anymore. His hands flittered over the red-soaked cloth of her jacket in a panicked fashion. He finally got his bearings and gripped the piece of rebar, his knuckles crackling as he tried to swallow his stomach back into place. For someone who loved sword-fighting, the sight of a bleeding wound still gave him shivers.

_Okay. Here goes._

He yanked the thin pillar of metal out of her flesh and tossed it aside. He could see the gravel of the sidewalk through the gory fistula. He swiftly reached down to cover the wound with both hands. The little girl began to wail. He'd expected a torrent of blood to erupt from the hole, but barely anything came out. The woman was really dying. Yumichika swallowed the lump in his throat and began the spell, a green glow spreading out from under his blood-soaked fingertips.

He had to pour a large amount of his own energy into the technique. He could easily perform most of his known _hadou _and _bakudou _without breaking a sweat, but healing kidou was different. After he'd learned a few of the spells, he'd shown them to Kotetsu Isane and she'd laughed at them. _'Not because they're bad'_ she'd said, '_but because you're doing it all wrong and making it harder on yourself_.' Apparently, one usually needed a special knack for the healing arts and he was _'doing it like only a member of the eleventh squad could'_.

Still, he could perform them well enough to heal most injuries that a Shinigami might encounter, including impalement by sharp, metal objects. Healing this human woman, while it would be very taxing on him, should prove to be no real trouble at all. She was already regaining some of the color in her cheeks, a very promising sign.

Her eyes suddenly flickered open, causing the girl next to them to squeak out in surprise. The woman looked around in confusion before her eyes finally settled on the Shinigami above her. She definitely recognized him – the look on her face betrayed her thoughts at least enough for him to see that. She looked down at her chest, timidly, where his hands were emitting a soft green glow around her bloodstained chef's coat. Her eyes widened and she looked back at Yumichika.

"I was dead," she said, softly. "I saw a light. I was dead."

Yumichika looked down into her eyes, his own violet irises oddly warm and inviting.

"No," he said with a smile as he stood up, the spell complete, her flesh fully mended. "You weren't dead. It was only a dream."

He turned and leapt into the air, leaving the mother and daughter on the street, his eyebrows tightening as he approached the nearest of the _Gillian. _He felt drained and lethargic, his energy almost completely depleted after saving that woman. It was time to recharge.

"Split and deviate," he said with a smirk, pulling out his zanpakuto. "_Ruri'iro Kujaku."_

Green and blue vines lashed out and tore into the flesh of the _Menos, _the cords entangling themselves within the monster like a parasitic taproot. Yadomaru Lisa had to redirect her own attack; her current trajectory would send her flying right into the zanpakuto's ropes. She had no idea what the vines would do if she touched them, but by the look of the _Gillian _that they were wrapped around, she could tell that it would be unpleasant.

She flipped in the air, her feet reaching towards the sky as her braid narrowly avoided a teal vine. She glared at Yumichika but he only smirked and winked. He'd stolen her kill on purpose. _That little fucker._ She would have to make him pay for that one later.

She righted herself, her feet skidding through the air as she slowed down. She suddenly found herself surrounded by a quintet of _Gillian. _She had been so busy trying to avoid Yumichika's little prank that she'd landed herself right next to the _garganta. _Wonderful.

She was seriously going to thrash his pretty-boy ass when this was over.

With an irritated sigh, she reached her right hand up to her face and pulled out her diamond-shaped mask. She began to spin the long _nodachi _in her left hand.

"Smash, _Haguro Tonbo."_

She stopped twirling the weapon as soon as she released her _shikai, _immediately bringing it down through the face of one of the numerous _Gillian. _The beast's white mask split along with the dark flesh beneath, the monster falling to the ground in pieces. Lisa twisted around and sent the massive spade into the mouth of the next _Menos_, bifurcating its mouth and dropping it immediately. She then jabbed backwards with the long pole, the weighted ball on the end smashing into the nose of the Hollow behind her. A _cero _had been forming inside of its mouth, but it lost control of the crimson energy as it fell backwards.

"_Jeez_," she growled as the red ball began to bulge in its newfound freedom. She held out her hand, her palm open at the coming explosion. "_Bakudou _thirty-nine: _Enkosen."_

A large circle of yellow light expanded from nothingness, shielding her from the blast. The explosion took out all of the remaining _Gillian. _She snickered softly as she wiped her mask away from her face, the white ivory chipping away and flying out into the wind. With a swift downward thrust, her zanpakuto resealed itself and she slid it back into her scabbard.

She turned around just as another of the massive Hollow seemingly appeared out of nowhere, its ghastly maw opened wide.

She didn't even have time to think before the monster's head fell apart, its mask having been cut into four separate slices. They disintegrated as they plummeted to the ground. She looked around at the empty landscape. It had been the last _Menos. _The _garganta _had closed.

With a whisper, Yumichika appeared next to her, a quartet of scythes sticking out of his hand. He smirked and flicked his wrist and sheathed his sealed blade. She eyed the weapon briefly, wondering how he seemed to have two _shikai._

"You gotta pay attention, Lisa," he sneered as he lowered himself to the ground. "I'm not always gonna be around to save you."

"Shut your mouth," she barked, following him to the ground. "You really don't think that thing would have touched me, do you?"

"I don't know. He was pretty close before I showed up."

Their feet touched down on the platform. She reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt, enjoying the look of surprise that crossed his perfect features.

"Watch your mouth, pretty-boy," she hissed. "I'm _this _close to gutting you for that little stunt you pulled back there. Keep talking garbage and you might just push me over the edge."

"Are you two done?" Soi Fon asked, walking up to them, slipping her sword back into the scabbard on her back. "Or am going to need to step in?"

Lisa's eyes narrowed at the smaller woman but she released Yumichika with a shove. She and Soi Fon definitely had some history, mostly bad, but this probably wasn't the best time to rekindle old flames of hatred. She needed to work _with _the diminutive Shinigami. As long as the sucker-punch was behind them, exacerbating the situation any more was simply stupid.

"Where'd the big thing inside the _garganta _head off to?" Lisa asked, quickly changing the subject.

"You mean Fuura?" Neliel asked, dropping down next to them. "He left after that explosion you created."

"Okay, wait," Yumichika interjected, looking at the Arrancar. "Who exactly _are_ you? You're an Arrancar. Why are you helping Captain Soi Fon?"

"She's fine, Yumichika," Soi interjected. "She's working against Aizen. She saved Ichigo's life back in the Winter War. Trust me, she's fine."

"_Really_?" he asked with genuine surprise. He turned back to Neliel. "And just _where_ have you been for the past thirty years?"

"You weren't this interested in my history a few minutes ago, Lieutenant," Neliel quipped. Yumichika's eyes narrowed. "Besides, I think I could ask the same questions about this Vizard you're with."

"Go ahead and say something, Arrancar," Lisa said, her hand sliding down to her zanpakuto's handle. She had yet to see any reason for trusting an ex-Espada and she was _not _going to allow this other woman to toss the cloak of suspicion upon her shoulders.

"Excuse me," came a timid voice from behind them. They all turned to see a human woman standing, looking nervous, her white clothes drenched in blood. A young girl hid behind her legs, peeking out and staring in awe at the sword-wielding quartet. The mother had her eyes more on Yumichika than anyone.

"My name is Sofiya and this is my daughter Liudmyla," she said, her voice betraying how nervous she was. Yumichika smiled and stepped closer to the duo and, to Lisa's surprise, they visibly relaxed. He extended a hand to her and she grabbed it.

"I'm Yumichika Ayasegawa," he said in Ukrainian, reversing his names to make more sense within this foreign culture. "These are my partners."

She gave them a quick look. Two of the other women reacted, Soi Fon with a small nod and Neliel with a short wave and a smile. Lisa remained silent and still.

"I assume," the woman began, returning her nervous eyes to Yumichika, "that you are not from around here?"

He grinned. "What was your first clue?"

She laughed, nervously, and continued:

"Well, the trains won't be running for…" she trailed off, looking around at the destroyed station. Her eyes returned to him. "…At least a day. I want to offer you my home to stay at until you can start your travels again. I have blankets and food."

"Really?" Yumichika said with well-practiced faux-surprise. "That is very generous of you, Sofiya."

"It's the least I can do," she said, her hands reaching down and gingerly touching her bloodied shirt. "For you… helping me."

"We'd be honored to be your guests," he said firmly, ignoring an unidentifiable snort from behind him.

The small girl suddenly ran forward and hugged his leg tightly, a wide smile on her face. Lisa felt her eyes bulge in her face at the sight. Yumichika reached down and rubbed the girl's hair.

"Lead the way, Liudmyla."

The little girl skipped back to her mother's side and the two began to walk towards the exits. Yumichika turned back to his companions, his pleasant smile falling now that he wasn't looking at the two humans. His eyes narrowed a little at the three women.

"I suppose we can take our conversation elsewhere, but," he looked at Neliel sternly, "we _will _be finishing it."

He turned and started walking. Soi Fon let out a small laugh and followed, closing the distance.

"Jeez, Yumichika," she said sarcastically, as though she'd just recalled their past friendship. "Why aren't you ever that nice to me?"

"Shut up."

Neliel smiled and walked to catch up, obviously not worried about Yumichika's suspicions. Lisa waited behind for a few moments longer. She then took a step and fell into line, her eyes still widened a bit. From the moment she'd first met Yumichika, she'd cursed Shinji for making her team up with the narcissist. She'd assumed that he was just another one-dimensional pansy. That opinion had been the driving force behind her attitude towards him up until now, but he'd just changed her mind.

She watched him lead the way and, absurdly, realized that she was impressed.

* * *

**_author's note_**

_so yeah, there's all that. small action scene. i forgot how difficult those things are. :/_

_shout outs to **jazzpha and matsumama and f1ymordecai **for being awesome. go read their stuff._

_**reviews **make me smile. i like reading em._

_april fool's is a troll's favorite day. i hope you guys didn't get tricked too bad._

_jta~!_

_**so much to say - dave matthews band**_


	7. Good Morning Slaves

_**Good Morning Slaves**_

He leaned forward, his face hovering over the operating table, his golden eyes eagerly examining the dead Shinigami's body in front of him. He was being extremely careful not to move too quickly – he didn't want to jerk the cable that was running from his specimen's exposed brain and into his own left nostril. He had implanted a long, curving tube that broke through his sinus cavities and plunged deep into his hippocampus. An additional cord was spliced into the center of the main cable and was attached to a small generator at the head of the table. It constantly sent miniscule electrical impulses into both his and the deceased's brains and was always reading and recording data sets. One wrong twitch and he would become a permanent vegetable.

Such were the risks of being a great scientist.

Szayel-Aporro Granz was fishing for memories. He'd already poked and prodded around in his specimens' brains all week, but he'd only managed to gather glimpses of sights – and maybe the occasional sound. He'd been extremely pleased – and somewhat surprised – when he'd stumbled upon a smell within the memory of this particular Shinigami; pleased because it let him know that he was on the right track in his prodding and surprised because he had long ago shut off his own sense of smell for the experiments. For the remembered scent of a gardenia to overpower the firewalls he'd placed within his own mind meant that he was getting extremely close to his goal.

He tittered gently, removed the probe from the woman's brain, and plunged it back into a different location. He pushed it deeper than he'd ever gone before, his expert fingers guiding the metal tube into the grey organ. He grinned as he gained a sudden sensory burst and began to twist the instrument around.

"Inside the enthorhinal cortex now," he said, the massive computer desk to his right clicking and whirring as it recorded his verbal observations. "Already seeing a massive difference in data from this region. More smells here. Many more visuals. Clearer. Defined. Sounds. And…"

What he'd just heard in his own head stopped the words in his throat.

He didn't know a thing about this Shinigami's past – her name, her division, and her associations were all a mystery to him. This was on purpose, of course. He always wanted to keep himself in the dark about his specimens' histories while he looked for their memories. He was a man of science, after all. He wanted to form his hypotheses after gathering the data, and not the other way around.

The extraordinary implications of what he'd just discovered in this woman's brain were enough to make him want to leap out of his seat. He figured that he actually would, if it weren't for the fact that he was attached to the dead body. Still, his excitement was on the verge of being uncontainable.

He'd just heard the name of this Shinigami's zanpakuto.

It had been barely a whisper, a faint echo from the chasmal abyss of her decaying mind, but it was there. He had heard it. He retraced his steps, quickly prodding the same spot once more. Nothing. A small twist of his thumb and forefinger caused a similar result, however, this time accompanied by the visual of a tall man. Possibly the zanpakuto spirit itself? He twisted again. He could see the actual sword now, a small _tanto, _hidden in a sleeve_. _He almost began to chuckle with pride.

This would prove to be an incredibly useful advancement for his research. He'd figured out a way revive the dead a year ago, but these revived experiments always seemed to remain rather mindless. It was unfortunate, but it was not an entirely unexpected side effect of the reanimation process. He'd then decided that the next step _must_ be to dig around in the individual subject's brain for memories. After numerous failed attempts, he'd been able to get one of the things to tell him its name last week, and just this very morning he'd achieved a somewhat coherent conversation with another. He was now on the cusp of reversing death, wholly and completely.

Whatever philosopher had thought that the mind was anything but a byproduct of matter was officially an imbecile.

Those old data, however, were _nothing_ compared to what he'd just discovered. If he could continue to stimulate the enthorhinal cortex, where these recollections of techniques and movements seemed to be stored, he could very well create a squadron of perfectly reanimated soul reapers. This one, of course, was beyond repair, but considering the number of Maggot's Nest Shinigami they'd lost at the hands of the Royal Guard, he could have a reasonably large attack-force ready to fight by the end of the week. He wanted to kiss himself for having the forethought to preserve the bodies.

But the prospect of a miniature army paled in comparison to what he had planned for his most prized specimen. The entire reason he'd even begun his research into reanimation had been to bring back one _particular_ cadaver. His amber eyes glanced up, longingly, at a silver container that was leaning against the far wall. Inside, a body was being kept frozen in suspended animation, waiting for the day that it could return to life once more.

That day was going to be very, very soon.

"Alright, freak-show," Grimmjow yelled from the doorway, almost making him take a lethal jump from his seat. "Make this fucking smell go away or else I _promise_ I'll rip your throat out."

"Just one second, Grimmjow," Szayel-Aporro hissed, irritated, attempting to return to his work. "I'm almost done here."

"Wrong. You _are _done here."

"I have to agree with him, Szayel," Charlotte Cuuhlhourne said, equally as peeved. "As much as I hate to say it, he's right. This stench is horrid."

Szayel-Aporro rolled his eyes and removed the instruments from the woman's skull. He placed them down next to her face and gently gripped the cable that dangled from his nose. He began to pull it downward slowly, gingerly. He fought against the urge to start hacking and coughing as the tube began to slide from inside his brain, knowing that one small movement in the removal process could kill him.

After what felt like an agonizing, eye-watering eternity, the tube was removed. He spun around to look at his fellow Espada, removing his gloves and tucking his thin, pink hair back behind his right ear. A trickle of blood was running down from his left nostril. He looked at Grimmjow and slowly licked it from his upper lip.

"I'm sorry, boys," he said with a smirk, "you were saying something?"

"These fucking corpses are starting to stink up the hallway," Grimmjow growled, stepping into the room. "If you insist on molesting them, do it in the fuckin' freezer."

"Grimmjow," he replied as he stood, shaking his head slowly and picking his zanpakuto up from the table. "You're so _crass_. Charlotte, I apologize to _you _for the stink. I have disabled my own sense of smell for this experiment, so I was unaware that it was bothering anyone of _importance_—"

Grimmjow suddenly grabbed Szayel-Aporro by his throat, his left hand's fingernails digging into the flesh of the Arrancar'sneck as the two of them collided with the operating table. Charlotte Cuuhlhourne quickly came to his fellow Espada's defense, the tip of his zanpakuto pointed at the base of Grimmjow's skull. The trio was then quickly surrounded by a group of Szayel-Aporro's mutated _fracción, _each of them baring fangs and claws and fists. The scientist looked at Grimmjow and snickered.

"Go ahead, Grimmjow. Try it. You'd be mincemeat before I hit the floor."

"Keep on pushin' me, pinky," Grimmjow hissed. "Keep on pushin'. I said I would rip your throat out – don't think I won't keep that promise."

"You'd really sacrifice yourself," he tittered, "before you could figure out a way back to that Shinigami whore of yours?"

"_Grimmjow."_

It was Ulquiorra Cifer from the doorway. His stern tone brought Grimmjow back to his senses, and just in time. He had been a mere second away from impaling Szayel-Aporro, his hand already gripping the pommel of his sword. The high probability of his own death had become invisible through his rage. He should probably thank Ulquiorra for intruding later on; it more than likely saved his life. He glared into the scientist's smug face for a moment longer before speaking over his shoulder at his comrade.

"This better be important, Ulquiorra," he said, keeping his eyes on the Arrancar in his grip. "Cuz I was just about to rid our little organization of a huge pain in the ass."

"I assure you," the _Quarta _Espada replied, "that what I have to discuss is a bit more pressing than your self-appointed pest control."

"Well," Grimmjow said with mock regret, releasing Szayel-Aporro's throat. "Them's the breaks, lab-rat."

He turned and almost walked into Charlotte's zanpakuto, the _katana_ still leveled at his head.

"Get your shit out of my face," he growled, slapping it away with the back of his hand. He walked up to Ulquiorra, sliding his hands into his pockets to keep them from punching one of the numerous _fracción _that littered the room. The pink-haired Arrancar behind him was getting better and better at pushing his buttons. One of these days, Grimmjow was really going to kill him.

"Are the two of you going off to be intimate behind closed doors again?" Szayel-Aporro asked, sitting back down with an evil chuckle. "Because I wouldn't be opposed to watching that."

Before Grimmjow could react, Ulquiorra turned and spoke. His voice, while calm and steady, carried with it the promise of penalty.

"Do something to get rid of this horrendous smell, Szayel-Aporro," he said, his green eyes glaring across the room. "Or else _I _will."

The two of them left the lab and walked out into one of the halls of the palace. Grimmjow could tell that something was bothering Ulquiorra, but he knew better than to press his stoic friend for details. It wouldn't do any good to ask. Whatever the green-eyed Arrancar wanted to say would come out in time. Still, the silence was getting rather suffocating. A minute of quiet was almost more than Grimmjow could bear.

"Yeah, so, thanks for stoppin' me back there," Grimmjow said, breaking the impasse with half-assed gratitude. He didn't really intend on apologizing, but it was a means to an end. "If you hadn't shown up, I'd probably be in some serious shit right now."

"Don't assume that I came to save you. It was a coincidence that I arrived before you did something rash. Saving your life was certainly not the driving force behind my seeking you out."

The dismissive tone did little to derail Grimmjow. This was his opening to delve into his companion's head and find out what had him even more serious than usual.

"Yeah?" he quipped. "Then what was so important?"

"See for yourself."

The duo turned a corner and entered one of the many massive rooms that the palace contained. Grimmjow's eyes widened immediately as the cause of Ulquiorra's dismay came into view. Wonderweiss Margera was crouched down in the center of the indoor plaza, his attention wholly focused on a single tile in the floor. A thin finger was reaching out and languidly poking at a hairline crack, the Arrancar's childish mind struggling to solve whatever invisible puzzle held his attention for the moment.

"Ooohaah?" he questioned as they passed him, his purple eyes glimmering in hope of his lonely questions being answered. Grimmjow could feel that he was staring and struggled to avert his gaze as he and Ulquiorra walked through the room. The small blonde child quickly turned his attention back to the floor, seemingly forgetting their passing. Grimmjow couldn't believe what he'd just seen; for that kid to be freely roaming the halls meant that his life had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.

"What the hell is _he_ doing out?" Grimmjow hissed as they rounded a turn, his blue eyes digging into the side of Ulquiorra's head. "Who the _fuck_ authorized that?"

"I have no idea," Ulquiorra responded as he pushed open another door, the desert sun of _Las Noches _bathing them in light as they stepped through it. His voice was tinged with uncharacteristic irritation. "But we need to find out."

Grimmjow's mind was racing with questions as the two of them crossed the small patch of sand dunes between the Espada's towers. Before he knew it, they were ascending the fifth flight of stairs and exiting into the hallway that led to Harribel's room. The only time that Wonderweiss was allowed out of the Hollow pits was when he was being used for a mission. With Aizen planning an assault on the King in a week, he highly doubted that the boy would be allowed out so soon for that mission, if at all. This meant that someone other than Aizen Sousuke had authorized his release.

They opened Harribel's door to find her talking with Barragan and Starrk, the three of them sitting on the numerous white couches that littered her chambers. The elite trio looked at the two newcomers with questioning looks, Harribel's eyes betraying a small level of fury with them.

"Can I help you?" she asked, the irritation in her voice purposefully audible.

_Ah shit, _Grimmjow thought, his mind racing to find a reason for him to be here with Ulquiorra. He was supposed to keep his distance from Harribel so that no suspicions were cast upon her. Now that he'd been caught red-handed in approaching her, he needed to come up with a good excuse.

Which wasn't exactly hard. He simply acted like was expected of him.

"Yeah," Grimmjow barked, his eyebrows furrowing before anyone could see his internal worry. "Mind tellin' me which one of you three geniuses let that fuckin' mindless squawk-box run around my building?"

"Wonderweiss," Ulquiorra calmly translated, perfectly playing into Grimmjow's act. "While he is of no real bother to me, the matter _has_ been brought to my attention. Now I am also curious as to why he's been released from the underground."

"I didn't know we had to report _anything _to either of you," Barragan said, quickly taking command of the other half of the conversation. "One of the perks of being a higher rank, I would say."

"Regardless of status," Ulquiorra said, ignoring the provocation, "it strikes me as odd that he would be released when there is no need for him whatsoever."

"And who says there isn't any need for him?"

"Is there?"

"In fact," Starrk spoke to interrupt the pointless questioning. "There is. We heard about a supposed gathering of Shinigami in the real world."

"Is that so?" Ulquiorra asked, keeping his surprise completely hidden. "And where did you hear this?"

"Where else?" Starrk asked as he leaned back on the sofa, clasping his fingers behind his head, his brown hair hanging off the edge as he stretched himself out. "From Aizen."

"And you needed to send _Wonderweiss_ for a scouting mission?" Grimmjow barked. "Doesn't that seem like fuckin' overkill to anyone else?"

"We didn't _send _Wonderweiss," Harribel snapped, further erasing any sort of companionship with Grimmjow. If the situation was so worrying, he might have grinned at her acting. "We _sent_ Fuura, and unless you know of any other way to control it without using Wonderweiss Margera, I'd like to hear it."

Grimmjow scoffed. "What-the-fuck-ever," he said, turning around. "Just lock him back up soon. Between his howling and Szayel-Aporro's reeking morgue, the _Menores_ tower is about to get burned to the fuckin' ground. Don't say I didn't warn ya."

He headed for the door. He would just wait outside Ulquiorra's room a floor down and see if his companion could manage to get anything else out of the trio. Despite also being a former traitor with suspicions cast upon him, Ulquiorra commanded a level of respect that Grimmjow didn't have. Probably never would.

"We can't," Harribel said firmly, causing Grimmjow to freeze. He snapped his head around, and glared at her. He knew he was wearing his fear on his sleeve, but he couldn't help it.

"And why the hell not?"

"Because Fuura _confirmed_ Aizen's suspicions," she said, the slightest touch of concern sneaking into her words. If the others noticed, they didn't react. "There are Shinigami gathering in the real world. Aizen wants Wonderweiss ready for combat at a moment's notice."

_Fuck, _he thought as he fought back the urge to scream, his molars grinding. _Fuck! How does that fucker know everything? All our planning is about to go down the fuckin' drain if he sends that kid out there. And I don't if Soi can handle Wonderweiss…_

"You can leave now, Grimmjow," Harribel said, drawing him out of his thoughts. "We don't need your input on this matter. You may remain here, Ulquiorra. Your contributions could be useful."

Grimmjow struggled with all his might to bite his tongue. He looked at Harribel for a moment, her teal eyes silently begging him to leave without trouble. She knew that he was on the verge of exploding and she was giving him a reason to leave before he did something stupid. He spun towards the door and left the room in silent rage.

He prowled through the halls, the feeling of defeat hovering over his head like a dark thundercloud.

* * *

He loved this time of the morning. It was just before sunrise and the faintest of changes were finally visible on the blackness of the nighttime sky. It was almost impossible to see, but there was a definite gradient from black to deep navy, brightening from the top of the atmosphere down to the horizon. If he hadn't been looking for the changes from the start, he wouldn't even notice. However, it was the best part of waking up so early. He wouldn't miss it for the world.

Ichimaru Gin smiled and sipped his tea.

He looked out over the Court of pure souls, his eyes sliding over the darkened buildings from behind his thin eyelids. As peaceful as it seemed for the moment, he knew that there was dissent bubbling up from the foundations. He assumed that Aizen knew about it as well, but unlike his own sense of constant skepticism, Aizen Sousuke had an overwhelming sense of faith.

Faith in himself, of course.

Gin knew that he could talk at Aizen until his throat was raw and it wouldn't change anything. His friend was too self-assured to worry himself over the possibility of a growing mutiny. An event that might bring about failure simply did not exist in his mind. Thirty years ago, Gin had told him that their attack on Soul Society would fail, and despite the assurances of certain victory, he'd been right. Tousen had gotten his throat slit and he'd been thrown in the Maggot's Nest for a quarter-century. Aizen, of course, didn't register any of that as a setback. He'd used his illusions to fake his demise and to make an escape for himself.

Where a normal man would see that as a flawed outcome – or even as a miscalculation on his part – Aizen Sousuke viewed his escape as a testament to his own abilities. Kaname dying and Gin getting captured were simply necessary for his plans to continue. Ichimaru didn't like the idea that he was simply a chess piece to Aizen but he wasn't naïve enough to bother convincing himself otherwise. At least he _knew _that he was expendable, unlike the Espada. They still considered themselves as valued.

Oh, the pains of having faith in one leader.

The victory against Soul Society, he felt, had gotten to Aizen's head a bit too much; now there was no telling him that his ideas were duds or that his plans would fail. To his credit, he very rarely messed up. Gin never really worried too much about how Aizen was doing things. However, that confidence was starting to cloud his friend's normally perfect vision. He'd sent out wave after wave of Arrancar at the Zero Squad, despite the fact that not a single one of them had won a fight. Now he seemed to be ignoring the ever-growing list of suspicious activity coming from within his ranks.

Until this morning, that is. Aizen had finally decided to do something about the rodents at his feet.

"Captain Ichimaru," came a sullen voice from the doorway, "Muguruma Kensei and Hirako Shinji are back from their mission."

"Ah, Izuru," Gin said, turning around to face his lieutenant. His smiled widened. "It's like ya can read my mind. Wanna go and meet them?"

"I should warn you," Kira said, his eyes on the floor as he followed Gin out of the room. "They aren't very happy with you."

"No," he replied merrily, "I would imagine they wouldn't be."

During the siege, they had been able to capture a handful of captains and a lieutenant. Apparently Aizen had ordered the Espada to do so; otherwise, the Arrancar would have been perfectly content with killing their opponents. Despite the order to take prisoners, even, Barragan had decided to kill Hitsugaya Toshirou and Hinamori Momo when he could have easily brought them in alive. Not that this insubordination was a surprise – nor was the loss of those two particularly upsetting. But it certainly illustrated just how much power Aizen held over the Arrancar. To make most of them go against their instincts and overcome their hatred towards Soul Society was indeed the sign of a powerful ruler.

He'd quickly exerted this dominion over their captive Shinigami, as well.

They'd exposed the five captives to the _hougyoku _in an attempt to create hybrids out of them. Hirako and the rest of the Vizards had been placed in charge oftheir training, under threat from Aizen that they had all better survive their inner battles. One of them, Kuchiki Rukia, had apparently come dangerously close to dying during the transformation process. According to the report, Ushouda Hichigen had needed to heal her for almost three days afterwards. The rest of them – including Kyouraku Shunsui once they'd captured him – had all come out of their inner-battles in under an hour.

The best and arguably most useful part of their exposure was that since Aizen had fused the _hougyoku _with his body, he could change their wills to agree with his own. Unlike the mindless drones that he could create with _Kyouka Suigetsu, _these newly created Vizards had been brainwashed into following orders completely. They had their free will stripped away, only to have it replaced with the will of Aizen Sousuke.

With the exception of Kira Izuru. After Nemu's death, he'd followed Gin around like a silent puppy, his head down and his eyes heavy. Ichimaru occasionally felt bad for his subordinate; perhaps he shouldn't have killed Nemu after all. She would have also made a wonderful underling. Still, breaking Kira so badly had its benefits – Gin assumed that after his lover's death and the fall of Soul Society, he was all the blonde Shinigami had left. Therefore, within Kira Izuru's mind, Ichimaru Gin was the most important person in the world. Even more than Aizen.

That made him an irreplaceable asset.

They walked into the main yard of the Third Division, immediately getting agitated reactions from both Kensei and Shinji. The two of them had been sent out on a wild-goose-chase so that Aizen could do a little snooping around in their quarters. As blind of an eye as Aizen had turned upon the Vizards for the past two years, he apparently knew the quickest way to crush a mutiny. He'd relied on Hirako Shinji and Muguruma Kensei the most during his siege of Soul Society; thus, he had given them a lot of control over the planning of the takeover. If anything were to go awry now, it would most likely be because of the two of them.

"Ya made it back so soon?" Gin asked, looking up at the pink streaks of light that were appearing in the early morning light. "I never woulda guessed you coulda gotten _all _the way out there and back so quickly."

"Well it wasn't hard," Kensei growled, "since there wasn't _shit_ to investigate once we got out there."

"Still," Gin said with mock praise, causing Kira to smirk slightly. "Ya two were so _quick _to find out it was nothin'."

"You son of a bitch," Kensei barked, stepping forward. Shinji placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

"Don't let him get you worked up," the blonde Vizard said, turning his partner towards the entrance of the courtyard. "He's just baitin' you. Come on, I'm on breakfast detail."

"Yeah, alright," Kensei grumbled, looking over his shoulder at Gin. "Yo, Ichimaru. Tell Aizen that the next time he wants to send us out on some bullshit mission don't make it so early in the fuckin' morning."

"Why don't ya tell him yerself?"

Kensei stopped. "The fuck'd you just say to me?"

"_Kensei," _Shinji hissed.

"I said," Gin said with a smile, taking a step forward. "'_Why don't ya tell him yerself'_?"

Kensei roared and leapt forward, his gloved hand grabbing at Gin's neck. He never got close. He suddenly stopped halfway in his rush at the silver-haired man, the tip of Kira's zanpakuto now inches in front of his nose. The blonde Shinigami was glaring at him, his green eyes promising a swift death. The threat behind those piercing pupils was absolutely genuine.

He looked as though he was protecting his own offspring.

"So," Kensei said to Kira, his eyes flicking from the sword to its wielder. "You _do _have some emotion in that sullen little face of yours, huh boy?"

"It's not what's in _my_ face that you should be worried about," Kira said flatly, moving the _katana _forward so that it was touching Kensei's right nostril.

"_Ichimaru_," Shinji growled impatiently.

"Yes, yes," Gin said pleasantly, placing his hand on Kira's shoulder. The younger man instantly relaxed and pulled his blade away. "Ya don't want this to get _too_ outta hand, do ya?"

Kira sheathed his sword, completely removing his gaze from the two Vizards in front of him. "Of course not, Captain Ichimaru."

"The two a' ya can get goin' now, I suppose," he said, more to Kensei than to Shinji. The duo turned but Gin chuckled lightly. "Oh, and Muguruma-san. I wasn't simply tryin' to make ya mad, ya know. When I said to tell Aizen yerself, I really only said that because he's in yer room right now."

A thousand questions flashed across the Vizard's face, but none of them were asked out loud. He instead spun and marched out of the courtyard, leaving Shinji behind. The blonde-haired Vizard watched him go before looking back to glare at Gin.

"Watch yourself," he said before turning, "Ichimaru."

"Oh don't worry. I will."

Shinji paused for a moment but didn't turn. He simply walked briskly out of the Third Division. Gin turned and smiled at his lieutenant, not surprised when the gesture went unreturned. He sighed and looked up at the brightening skies.

"Come on, Izuru," he said, walking back to his room. "Let's drink some tea before the mornin's _completely_ over."

"Yes, Captain."

* * *

_Kensei and Mashiro,_

_I know it's been a while, but I've been very busy! I know I said I would write to you guys, but…_

_I found Urahara like you told me to. Everything has gone according to plan – expect to see me again soon! _

_ Thank you both so much._

_For everything._

— _X._

Kuna Mashiro skipped down the halls of Seireitei, a wide and childish smile on her face. She'd been waiting for almost a year and a half for this letter to come in. And now she had it! She could barely contain herself as she rushed towards Kensei's room.

_Oh, he's gonna be so happy, _she thought as she bopped around another turn, chewing on her lower lip. _After all the work that he did to make sure nobody would ever find out… _

"I can't _wait _to see his face," she said aloud, under her breath. "I wish I had Hiyori's camera!"

She slowed and caught her breath, her green hair shining in the early morning light. She didn't want to be too excited and give everything away when she gave Kensei the letter.

_Oh wait! The letter!_

She'd been so excited that she'd forgotten the letter back on her desk. She'd wanted to give it to him and silently watch his reaction to it. Although, now that she thought about it, she probably wouldn't actually have been able to contain her excitement. She would have ruined everything. Good thing she forgot the letter, then. Now she could just barge in and tell him and then he would tell her to shut up. But that would be okay because then he would get excited and follow her into her room and _then _she could show him the letter.

_It's perfect, _she thought as she took another deep breath. _I'm so smart!_

One more deep breath and she was off, walking briskly. She was close to his room now – she didn't want him to hear her stomping from down the hall. She wanted to sneak up on him.

No! She wanted to yell it at him.

No, that wouldn't work. If she yelled about it, Kensei would get mad at her. She didn't want that.

Kensei didn't even want Shinji to know about this little pet-project of theirs. After they'd betrayed the Shinigami, the two of them had managed to save a single life from the ruins of Soul Society's armies. They'd kept it a secret from everyone. She didn't really understand why they'd kept it a secret, but she knew that Kensei had been serious when he'd asked her not to tell anyone. He'd practically begged her.

"_Because, Mashiro," _he'd said in that serious tone that he got sometimes. "_Because this is our redemption." _His face would always make her want to laugh when he got somber like that, but she knew better. She also knew that it meant to do what he said. She could tolerate him being angry, but it broke her heart when he got disappointed in her.

"_Keeeen-seeeeeiii!" _she called out, slinging the door to his room open, completely forgetting about his desire for her discretion. She bounded forward. "I got a letter from—"

Her voice stopped in her throat.

The man she was looking at was not Muguruma Kensei.

"Hello, Mashiro-chan," Aizen Sousuke said gently, turning away from the single window in the room. "How are you?"

"Aizen," she said quickly, in breathless shock. "Why… where is Kensei?"

"Oh," he said taking a step forward, "there were reports of an uprising in the western _Rukongai_. I had to send someone strong. Someone I could _trust."_

"Oh. Okay."

She was paralyzed in his presence. Her hands were hanging limp at her sides. She felt like they should be moving, that she should say something to him. But she couldn't. She could only look up into his deep brown eyes – his gentle, chestnut eyes – and tremble.

"Come here, Mashiro-chan," he said as he turned back to the window. The honorific at the end of her name sounded almost mocking. "Come and look at what we have done."

She didn't think she could even move. She was terrified of him, she always had been. Even when he'd been Shinji's lieutenant, she'd never felt safe around him. Now with him as their _de facto _commander, after he'd tried to kill them all so long ago, she feared him even more.

She somehow took a step forward. Ever so slowly, she walked towards him. He smiled at her as she sidled up next to him, her olive eyes looking out over the entirety of the Seireitei.

"Look at this," he said gently, his hand sweeping out towards the buildings below them. "Look at our kingdom. This empire that we have built from the ruins of what was once Soul Society. See how the sun is rising there in the east, so far away? Is it not as splendid to turn around and see it set in the west, always shining upon this city of ours?

"Of course, I could not have done it without you, Mashiro-chan. You, who infiltrated the ranks of the Shinigami and led them into _Hueco Mundo;_ you who abandoned them in their hour of need.

"All of that, you did for me.

"And now you stand here, by my side, in the same Soul Society that had once exiled you. You've returned to the city that banished you, so long ago. Because of all you have done, Soul Society has welcomed you back, her arms opened wide.

"No," he said, turning to look at her in the eye. "You don't return as you once were. You now sit above Soul Society as one of her _queens_."

He turned back to the window, his hands gently sliding into his pockets.

"And of course my memory is not so flawed that I don't recall the reason for your banishment. It was, after all, by my own design. Perhaps _that_ is the reason that I decided to come down here and see you on this beautiful morning – to give you both my thanks and my apologies.

"Because, as I said before, nothing I have now would be here were it not for you."

He stepped away and Mashiro suddenly remembered how to breathe. She realized that she had been holding her breath. Her chest burned. She wanted to double over, to gasp for air, but she knew she had to wait for him to finish his slow walk out of the room. Then she could fall down to the floor and gasp like a fish that had been washed ashore.

"Oh, and one more thing," Aizen Sousuke said, turning around to face her again. "This letter of yours – who was it from?"

Kuna Mashiro's heart almost exploded inside her ribcage. Her mouth fell open and her body was plagued with a frigid burst of fear. He was steadily closing the distance between the two of them, his feet gliding silently over the wooden floor.

"_Wha_…_?_" she whimpered, her chest heaving as she struggled to think. "_I_…"

He was looking into her face. He knew exactly what she was hiding. He knew everything_. _He was upon her, her face level with his chest. He was looking down into her eyes, her large orbs quickly filling with hot tears of defeat and fear, and he knew.

He _knew._

He suddenly looked hurt, his eyebrows rising sorrowfully as a frown stretched over his face.

"Oh, no," he said, reaching a hand out to cup her neck gently, sensually. He brought his face down, close to hers, his lips speaking almost directly into her mouth. "I've made you upset, haven't I? Please, do not cry, Mashiro-chan. As my brightest star, it would truly break my heart to see you flicker for even the briefest of moments."

She was going to die.

He was going to kill her.

"Oh," Aizen said and turned away, "look."

He backed away then, revealing Muguruma Kensei standing in the doorway. The white-haired Vizard glared into the room, his jaw clenched tightly.

"It's Captain Muguruma, already back from his mission," Aizen said with a pleasant smile, leaving the room. "I'm sure you can tell _him_ all about your letter."

Then he was gone. Without a sound, like a haunting phantom, he vanished from the room.

"Mashiro," Kensei said, swiftly walking forward. "_What did he do to you?_"

"I…" she sputtered, her face twisting in anguish. "_I…"_

She fell as her legs finally gave up the fight to remain standing. But it was not to the floor that she fell. It was into Kensei's arms.

"Oh, Kensei," she whined, burying her face into his chest as she finally fell apart, her eyes bursting with hot tears. "_Kensei._"

* * *

_**author's note**_

_not much to say here. just an insight to the aizen side of things. not all is well in paradise. _

_thanks as always to **matsumama and jazzpha **for reading this ahead of time._

_**reviews are appreciated. **_

_aizen is a bastard._

_jta~!_

_**good morning slaves - fant**__ômas_


	8. Severed

_**Severed**_

It was about to rain.

Soi Fon looked up at the clouds hanging low in the sky above her. She could smell the approaching storm, the earthy scent of damp soil that was carried to her nose by the wind that blew through the narrow street. The dried dirt that served as the road looked as though the city would benefit from some precipitation. The grimy faces of the street's inhabitants could also use a rinse-down; the bright eyes of roaming children served as the only clean spots on their filthy faces.

The walk from the train station had already taken an hour. The woman leading them walked in front of the group, her face only glancing over her shoulder at them occasionally, possibly to see if they were still following. She kept silent, only speaking to the girl at her side in a hushed voice. She'd taken out a cell phone once, but the conversation had been muffled and in a strange dialect that her _gigai _had trouble translating accurately.

The daughter, on the other hand, was constantly turning her chubby face back to look at them, her green eyes peeking out from beneath blonde curls as she stared at the monster-killers. She kept her gaze mostly on Yumichika; he would give her a friendly smile whenever she looked back. Even though it was a feigned grin, the girl would giggle childishly and turn away. Every once in a while, however, the girl would turn and look at Soi Fon, her little eyes staring intently. Soi would not smile for her.

Her portion of the group had traveled in complete silence for the entire walk, with the exception of Neliel occasionally humming a quiet tune. Soi Fon was relieved that the Arrancar was with her. If she had faced this same situation with Yumichika and Lisa as her only companions, she would still be at the train station. Not that she didn't enjoy Yumichika's company; between shared missions and the nights at the bar, he was probably one of the few Shinigami that she could stand to be around for the remainder of this journey. With Lisa in the picture, however, Soi could tell that her effeminate compatriot wouldn't be acting like himself. He already wasn't.

Lisa had that kind of effect on men – she always had. She knew it, too. She enjoyed taking a strong man and crushing him down into a palm-sized version of his former self. It was the entire reason that she'd left the Second Division when Kyouraku Shunsui had enquired about her. Yoruichi, in what had then looked like ignorance, had allowed the promotion of her fourth-seat to lieutenant of the Eighth. She'd claimed that Lisa "would be good for him". Soi never really bought into that. She'd always assumed that Lisa herself had facilitated the trade and convinced Yoruichi that it would be funny. Soi Fon considered Lisa to be a deserter after that, and the Vizard knew it.

All of this made her even more relieved that she had Neliel with her. With Yumichika obviously struggling to keep up with Lisa's quixotic attitude, he would be useless to her as a companion. If push-came-to-shove, the Vizard would make him into her finger-puppet and, whether he realized it or not, Soi Fon would be a lone voice against two. She and Neliel already had a plan – together, they wouldn't be so easily persuaded into changing course. With the Arrancar around, it would at least be a two-on-two vote.

A thunderous rumble came from the clouds above. Their grey surfaces were darkening as the sun fell lower behind them. The storm was growing nearer. She hoped that they were getting close to their destination – a walk through a cold rain shower didn't sound all too pleasant right now. The _gigai _was immune to catching any sort of sickness from the freezing rain, but it couldn't block out the cold itself. She was already shivering from the long walk through early spring's chilled twilight.

There were eyes upon them at every turn. From cracked windows and the spaces between buildings, the inhabitants of this dilapidated town were watching their every move. Some people didn't even bother to hide themselves; a pair of grease-stained men, their overalls black with signs of their day's labor, had glared at them earlier, their unfriendly eyes unashamed of the distrust they were displaying. At one point in their walk, a group of teens had thrown a ball in front of them from a street-side field, their eyes admitting that the near-miss hadn't been an accident. Soi had a suspicion that were it not for their guide, her little group might fall victim to a mob.

Soi had seen plenty of aggression during her time abroad. Communities across the globe had become tighter in the wake of Aizen's victory, the Hollow scourge forcing ethnicities and neighborhoods to band together against outside threats. In their ignorance, humans tended to rail against any and all newcomers, the danger of the unknown too much for them to overlook. Fortunately, Iceland had been relatively unharmed by the time she'd arrived – the people had been able to overcome their distrust and fear and had learned that that she was not a danger.

They were now walking through a more densely developed area; the dirt street was narrowing and so were the buildings. The squat apartments were beginning to stretch upwards on every side, becoming slimmer as they continued south. There had been a few sandy courtyards some kilometers back – littered with abandoned balls and playthings – but the district they walked through now seemed distinctly void of any such luxuries. Every bit of space seemed to be reserved for these cramped houses.

Their guide turned down a small alleyway to the left, giving Soi Fon the view of a large stadium on the horizon. From her vantage point, it looked as though the steel coliseum hadn't been used in quite some time; light poles were on their sides and littering the gravel of the parking lots; signs and banners hung torn and filthy from the rusted walls. She assumed that these shoddy buildings that surrounded her group had been built after the stadiums' closing and the builders had been desperate to fit in as many as possible. It would easily explain the overall lack of space in the borough.

They slowed to a stop as the woman in the lead walked up to a ground-level apartment. She sighed briefly and opened the door, gesturing for everyone to follow.

The inside of this woman's house was warm and inviting, albeit awkwardly narrow. Everything had a sunlight-yellow tinge to it and there was an aroma of food drifting throughout the rooms. A child even younger than their small traveling companion was sitting on the floor, tearing up an old cushion. The mother ignored this and waltzed hurriedly toward the kitchen, but the youngster was soon being reprimanded by his elder sister.

"Andrij!" she howled in as a stern voice as she could muster, yanking the ruined pillow away in a cloud of feathers. "You know you aren't supposed to do that!"

The toddler began to cry, but his mother was already making a fuss in the kitchen and ignored him.

"I did call you an hour ago!" she growled in her strange dialect. "Why do you not have the meal prepared?"

"It was too little time," came another voice, young and masculine and in that same odd speech. Soi Fon saw Yumichika twitch his head slightly, subconsciously, as though he was trying to remove a drop of water from his ear. It wasn't just her _gigai _that was having trouble with their accents, apparently.

"I don't care of 'too little time'. Hurry up for our house's guests."

Soi Fon looked around at her companions, relieved that their expressions betrayed their discomfort as well. Lisa was staring at Yumichika, as though them being here was his fault. It _was_ his fault, but Soi understood that they were at least getting a meal out of it. Yumichika, for the most part, was focusing on anything besides Lisa's glare. Neliel was looking around at everything, more aloof than awkward, her olive eyes taking in every little decoration and photo that hung on the walls.

"Please, please," the woman – Sofiya, Soi remembered – said as she exited the kitchen, her dialect shifting into a more neutral form for them. "Please take off your coats and sit down."

A pair of adolescents emerged from behind her, a boy and girl, and took their shed clothing without a word. Sofiya beamed for a second at her children and gestured for the guests to sit. It was a small table, but it took up most of the room. The four of them alone took up almost all of the sitting space. Soi Fon sat and looked at their hostess, waiting. Sofiya would have been a very pretty woman, but she seemed to have aged beyond her years. She had clearly not lived an easy life. She also looked worried, nervous. Soi could see that in the way her eyes flicked over to her children and she was dryly wringing her hands together.

"Mother," the teenage girl said as her brother returned to the kitchen, "are not you going to take your coat off?"

"No," Sofiya responded quickly in her strange way again, "I will go upstairs to change from my coats. Make sure that our house's guests are not hungry and watch our little ones."

Soi watched the matriarch fly up the stairs and turned her attention back to the two teens. The boy was staring at them from beneath furrowed eyebrows in an attempt to look intimidating. It would have almost been convincing if his eyes didn't keep slipping over to Neliel's chest.

"Krystiyan," his sister growled, shoving him softly. "Do not be rude to our house's guests. Ask them what they would want to eat."

"They are not my guests."

"They are our mother's guests and they are our house's guests. You will be respectful to them because it is what the mother wishes."

From her spot at the table, Soi could see Lisa's glare intensify as Yumichika struggled to escape it. Soi almost felt sorry for him.

"No," the boy said, walking from the kitchen toward the front door. "I cooked the food up, so you can serve them it. I am going out-side for the night."

"_Krystiyan," _Sofiya's voice snapped from the staircase. The youth immediately froze as his hands reached for his coat. He turned, eyes glaring defiantly at his mother. "You will help your twin-sister-Katyusha to serve the house's guests before you leave this home. Do you understand?"

He said nothing and stood stone-still under his mother's oppressive gaze. After a brief moment, the only sounds in the house coming from the two children murmuring on the floor, he broke and hung his jacket up. He walked into the kitchen and tried his best to make a lot of noise as he prepared the plates. His sister chuckled and smiled at her mother before she turned to assist him. Sofiya looked at them, her hand still resting over the vanished wound on her stomach, and smiled.

"I hope none of you are vegetarians," she said, "we could only make more of what we already had."

"Thank you very much, Sofiya," Yumichika said, looking extremely relieved to break his silence. He still spoke in an overly-friendly tone. "But I think we're all too hungry to turn down anything."

"That's good to hear."

The two children on the floor started screaming at each other, causing Sofiya to leave the table to investigate. Yumichika turned back to the group, his eyes avoiding Lisa's as best as they could. He instead looked at Soi Fon, his eyebrows slightly raised in the smothering silence that had engulfed their table. Soi sighed and leaned forward and lowered her voice.

"Okay," she said in Japanese, "we're not gonna get anywhere if we sit around worrying about each other's strategies. I don't have time to keep secrets. As soon as the trains are up and running again, Neliel and I are headed to Volgograd. After that we're headed south towards New Delhi to meet with the other Arrancar that are rebelling against Aizen. After that… neither of us really know what the plan is."

The duo across the table stared at her impassively. Lisa's cold eyes looked over the rim of her glasses, a small sneer on her face. Yumichika folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair, his head looking off to the right. He took in a breath and let it out loudly, turning his head to look at Soi Fon.

"We're headed to Mongolia."

"_Yumichika," _Lisa hissed loudly.

He cut his eyes over at her. "No, she's right. We don't have time to worry about bullshit suspicions. I trust Captain Soi Fon. And if she trusts the Arrancar, then that's good enough for me."

"Well it ain't _shit_ for me, pretty-boy."

They glared intently at each other for a few moments when a plate dropped in the kitchen.

"_Mother!" _the teen girl yelled out.

"_Katyusha, be silent._"

A moment of silence.

Muffled sobbing.

_Sofiya just told them about what happened at the station, _Soi Fon thought. _About how she almost died._

Silence reclaimed the room as Lisa and Yumichika looked away from one another. Soi listened to the sound of sweeping in the kitchen, the sound of utensils slowly working. She could hear the mother and her children talking around the corner, but their voices were too faint for her to make out any words. Neliel drummed her fingers on the table in a soft yet specific beat as she waited for the conversation to begin again. The rain outside began to fall heavily, the low clouds finally splitting open.

"We're going to Mongolia," Lisa spoke up finally, "because that's where Unohana is." Her voice was dripping with displeasure – she did not enjoy giving up her plans like this. "And with her is Kurosaki Ichigo, Kuchiki Byakuya, and, if he was telling the truth for once, Urahara Kisuke and Shihouin Yoruichi."

Soi Fon's eyes widened. She had no idea that so many of the exiles had already gathered. With the Vizards aiding them, as Lisa's presence suggested, they had a far more powerful team building to attack Aizen. From what Neliel had told her, the traitorous Espada were only a few strong. Following Lisa and Yumichika to Mongolia sounded like the better plan.

But that meant that Soi would have to abandon Grimmjow.

"Soi Fon."

Neliel spoke up for the first time since the train station. Her voice was lower than normal and her eyes had lost their motherly softness. She was looking at Soi Fon very seriously now, her lips a thin line.

"They have a better plan than we do. We should follow them."

Soi looked her companion in the eye. Neliel's expression could have caused a brick wall to crumble. Soi Fon, despite herself, looked down at her lap.

"I'm sorry that took so long," Sofiya said, flustered, as she stepped from the kitchen, two square plates in her hands. Her teenagers followed her with dishes of their own to carry. "One plate for each of you."

"Think about it while we eat," Neliel said seriously before turning her smile on for the boy, who had made sure that he was the one to serve her. "Oh, this smells good! Did you make this?"

The boy's eyes focused on the floor and he walked away. The Arrancar smiled. He got around the table and looked at his mother.

"There. The house's guests are served," he said oddly. "May I go out from here?"

"Yes, yes," Sofiya said as she ducked back into the kitchen.

"Thank you, mother," he said and turned.

"_Wait_," she said and poked her head back into the room, planting a small kiss onto his cheek. He returned the peck and walked to the door, grabbing his coat from the rack. He looked at the table once, his eyes focusing on Yumichika briefly, and left the house.

"Katyusha, could you eat upstairs with our little ones tonight?"

The daughter nodded silently at her mother and turned, carrying a pair of plates upstairs. She got to the main room and looked down at her siblings.

"Luidmyla, get up your brother and come eat upstairs with me, right?"

The girl pouted. "Why can't we eat down with mother?"

Katyusha smiled patiently. "I told you so, that's why. Get up the stairs."

The little girl huffed and scooped her dribbling brother up, almost tripping as she followed her sister up the carpeted stairs.

"So," Sofiya said, drawing attention from her daughters as she pulled an extra chair up to the table and sat down. "How do you like the food?" Her accent was back to a more standard version of Ukranian.

"It's very good," Yumichika responded almost immediately, once more taking up his role as the polite diplomat. "Thank you very much for inviting us into your home, Sofiya."

While the four of them began to eat, Sofiya started to wring her hands in her lap and she kept her eyes down at them below the table. She breathed in once heavily and looked up, her eyes staring at each one of her guests. She looked very nervous and it caused Soi Fon to stop eating and look at her.

Sofiya looked up at her guests, her eyes flicking to each of them in turn. When she got to Soi Fon, who was watching her, the woman shot her eyes back down into her lap. A few seconds later, they were back up, staring intently at the middle of the table.

"What _are_ you people?" she asked finally, setting everyone at the table rigid. Yumichika had even frozen halfway through lifting his fork to his mouth. Lisa looked away from the woman. Neliel ceased her pause and continued to eat, slowly.

"I'm not a smart woman," she continued, "but I'm not blind. Only a blind woman wouldn't know about the monsters outside the city. They've been coming for a year now, getting worse and worse. People have moved into the city from their farms. We can't fit them all."

She was getting worked up, red blooming in her weathered cheeks as she spoke. She took a few breaths and continued.

"But today was the first time I've ever heard about one coming into the city. And then you four show up and can fly and… use _magic_. I…"

She took another breath. She was trembling slightly. She looked at them pleadingly and continued.

"Do you know what's happening? You _must_ know what's happening!"

The spirits at the table looked at her in silence for a few moments longer. Soi Fon spoke up first. She had been watching this woman fret all night. She had assumed it was because she would have to explain to her children about the attack at the station, but that didn't seem to be alleviating her nerves any. Soi figured that these questions would come eventually.

She'd already answered them plenty of times before.

"Who we are," she began calmly, "and what we do is a very long story, Sofiya."

Sofiya's eyes widened slightly at Soi Fon's response. This was the first time any of the three women had actually spoken to her.

"I'm not going to go into everything, so please accept what I can tell you. Something terrible has happened in the world," Soi continued, careful not to mention the Soul Society. Humans tended to react strangely when approached with the topic of the afterlife. Especially since the concept of Soul Society never seemed to have been developed in their culture. They liked to think that they had the origins of life all figured out. Telling them otherwise would only end the conversation before it began.

"A group of people," she continued, her words carefully chosen, "were placed in charge of protecting the world. They…" she looked at Yumichika, his eyes down. "…_we, _were supposed to be the leaders of a great army."

She cleared her throat and continued, suppressing the painful memory of when she'd lost her arm. When she'd lost Grimmjow.

"We faced an enemy that was too strong for us. We failed and now the whole planet has to suffer because of it." She looked up at Sofiya, her eyes sincere. "But we're here now to fix our mistake. We aren't going to give up until we do. I can promise you that."

The rain outside began to slow to a drizzle as the table sat in silence. Yumichika was looking down in his lap while Lisa stared at the far wall. Neliel sat with her hand propping her chin up, idly messing with her food as she twisted her fork. Soi Fon's speech had left them all feeling defeated.

Sofiya sighed and stood, picking her plate up with her. She turned and walked to the stairs, stopping briefly to look back at them. She smiled weakly.

"I wish you luck."

She walked up the stairs to finish dinner with her daughters. Soi Fon turned back to her plate. She picked up her fork and stabbed at the lamb for a moment, her thoughts racing. She wanted to stick to Neliel's original plan and meet up with Grimmjow, but she could plainly see that Yumichika and Lisa's strategy had a higher success rate. She didn't want to lose the chance to help Grimmjow, but she couldn't take the risk. This was their one chance to bring Aizen Sousuke down. If anything went wrong, they'd be dead in the water.

Forever.

She couldn't take that risk.

"Okay," she said, looking up at Yumichika, "what is your plan, Lieutenant?"

He smirked at her. "Why, Captain? You thinking of comin' along with us?"

"We'll see," Soi said sternly, not giving him the upper hand. "As soon as you tell me your itinerary."

"As soon as the trains are running," he replied, his route memorized, "we go to Volgograd. From there, we're out into the mountains and desert. Then up through Siberia and back down. As far away from a people – as far away from a Hollow threat as possible. Out in the middle of nowhere."

"He has a point," Neliel spoke up as she turned away from her food. "Hollow tend to form hordes. If they aren't actively going into cities, then they're probably forming rings around them. There will be almost none out in the desert."

"Right," Yumichika continued. "That way we don't have to deal with shit like what happened this afternoon. Keep a super low profile."

"Neliel," Soi Fon said in a last-ditch effort to shift the decision to her companion, "you really think we should go with them? Aren't we… expected in New Delhi?"

"I can try and get in touch with someone over there," she replied, "but I do think that we should follow them."

"Alright," Soi said, looking down at her plate in defeat, "we'll go with you guys."

* * *

"Why the hell would you put that _there_?"

Yumichika turned around, the large stew-pot he held slinging through the air in anger. He glared at Lisa, gesturing at her with the black caouldron.

"Well where the hell _should _I put it?" he growled. "I was fine letting these dry on the counter. It was _your_ idea to try and figure out where they go in the cupboards!"

Soi Fon stepped in and, wordlessly, grabbed the pot from Yumichika's flailing arms. She opened three cupboards, two above the stove and one below the sink. She looked at each one for a brief moment before she stowed it in the lower spot. She turned around and glared at her companions.

"Can you two keep quiet?" she hissed. "Try to act like adults and don't wake anyone up."

Sofiya had come back downstairs only once after she'd left them alone. She'd put a stack of dishes in the kitchen, showed her guests where the extra blankets were stored, and had gone to bed. That was nearly an hour ago. Since then, there hadn't been a sound from the second floor. Yumichika figured that the girls above them were either asleep, or too polite to come down to tell them to keep it down.

"Whatever," Yumichika said, leaving the kitchen. "You seem to know where everything goes in here. I'm gonna step outside and smoke."

He walked out toward the front door, looking at the Arrancar – Neliel – who was already asleep on the floor. Why Soi Fon hadn't forced her to do any dishes was beyond him. He opened the door and stepped out onto the small porch in front of the home. He looked up at the night sky, the moon struggling to shine out from behind the thin rainclouds. The air was warmer now; the storm must have swept up from the south and dropped a patch of warm weather in its wake. It was finally beginning to feel like spring in the world.

He let out a sigh of relief. It was good that Soi Fon and Neliel were coming with them to meet up with Urahara and Unohana. The more people they could gather to fight Aizen, the better. If they didn't turn it around now, while Aizen busied himself with the Zero Squad, they would never get the chance. He could tell Soi wasn't happy about her decision, but she was anything but illogical; what she wanted and what was necessary were two very different things. She knew that.

Yumichika knocked a cigarette out of its place in the pack and placed it between his lips. He looked up at the pale moon again, the white satellite glowing softly as he lifted the lighter up to his mouth. He paused, his thumb resting on the wheel of his flint. His nostrils flared – there was already the scent of smoke in the air. He could hear nearby voices. He snapped the cigarette out of his mouth and walked around to the corner of the house.

He poked his head over the other side of the wall and saw Sofiya's son Krystiyanin a circle with a trio of his friends. They were sitting in some plastic chairs, passing around a smoking paper that was rolled up to resemble cigarette. Yumichika immediately recognized that it wasn't tobacco.

"What the fuck?" he said, the teenagers gasping in surprise as he spoke. The Shinigami quickly snapped the joint out of their hands and scowled at them. The three other boys scrambled away, but Krystiyanremained put, looking at Yumichika defiantly.

"Get your ass back inside," Yumichika growled as he snatched up the paraphernalia, "before I get your mother."

The boy glared at him, but without his friends to provide him with backup, he knew he was on the losing side. Just staring into this foreigner's eyes was enough to let him know that he was helpless to stop the Shinigami from doing whatever he wanted. Krystiyan growled slightly and stepped up onto the rickety porch, angrily brushing his shoulder against Yumichika's as he walked into the house.

The Shinigami watched him go and leaned against the wall. He looked down at the smoking tube of marijuana and shook his head. Then he looked over his shoulder at the closed door, poked his head around the corner of the house to look for the teen's friends, and placed the joint in his mouth. He pulled at it, inhaling the thick smoke. He held it in his lungs for a few seconds, enjoying the pine-like taste of the smoke, before letting it out in a fat cloud.

"So what?" came Lisa's voice from behind him. "The booze and cigarettes aren't enough for you?"

"Trust me," Yumichika said with a small cough, smirking over his shoulder at the Vizard. "This is far better for me than the other two."

Lisa snickered and walked up to him, taking the joint out of his hands. She took a long drag from it and stepped off the porch, sitting down in one of the boys' abandoned chairs. She took another puff and held it out at Yumichika. He hopped down and took it from her.

"You sure you wanna smoke that?" he said, placing the joint in his mouth. He took a drag before resuming, his voice thick with smoke. "It can be tricky the first time."

"First time?" she scoffed as he sat down across from her. "You must not hang around with Shunsui very much."

She offered her hand out and he passed the joint back. "No, not all that much. He hasn't spent too much time out on the scene since Captain Ukitake died."

Lisa puffed at the spliff and looked up at the sky. Yumichika could tell that she hadn't liked hearing about Ukitake's death. He figured that as Captain Kyouraku's former lieutenant, she must have been close to the former captain of the thirteenth division. He had never really been in the know with those two captains. He just knew that they, along with Unohana Retsu, were very old friends. He could see, through Lisa's reaction, that their closeness had not been isolated.

He shook his head. His brain was getting fuzzy because of the weed. It had been a while since he'd smoked any marijuana. Hitomi had been a big fan of the stuff, but once she'd died he had all but given it up. His tolerance had apparently plummeted over the past few months because he was feeling really, really high right now.

"So who's the captain now?" Lisa asked, handing the joint back to him.

"What?"

"Since Juushiro died," she said as he inhaled. "Who took up the spot in the thriteenth?"

"Well, it was empty for a few years. A lot of people took the exam, but none of them had a _bankai. _Eventually, Ichigo died and got the spot."

Lisa laughed. _Actually _laughed. It was an odd sound – Yumichika could tell that she wasn't accustomed to laughing out loud all too often. Her voice got higher and she covered her mouth with the back of her fingertips. Her cheeks began to get red as she struggled to breathe. The weed was getting to her, too.

"That _kid _took Juushiro's spot as captain?"

Yumichika couldn't help but laugh with her.

"It's not like it's a bad idea," he said with a chuckle. "He did a pretty good job until everything went to shit."

"Yeah, but," she said between giggles. "He's a textbook case of a green-horn. Kid couldn't even tie his shoelaces without someone telling him how."

"Well," Yumichika said, laughing, "that's just, like, your opinion."

"Opinion? I _trained _him. He was _nothing_ without my help. Before he came to me he couldn't even control himself. He was crying like a kid with a skinned knee."

"That's—" Yumichika said before breaking out in laugher. Lisa was laughing with him. The joint was finished and the two of them were giggling like children. Yumichika was clutching his stomach and looking at his Vizard companion. For the first time since she'd appeared in his life, she seemed like an actual person. No longer was she this stone-wall of a woman, hell-bent on his emasculation, determined to force him into the ground below her heel. She was just a young woman that was hoping that after all was said and done, there would be peace in the universe once more.

Her laughter died down and she let out a long sigh. She looked across at him, her blue eyes soft.

"Why did you save that woman today?"

Yumichika shrugged. "Because she was dying."

"I understand that, but that was a little unexpected."

"Why? Isn't it our job to protect people?"

"Yeah, but," she said, curbing her tone so that she didn't sound insulting. "With all those _Gillian _around, weren't you endangering more people by ignoring them to help one person?"

Yumichika leaned back in his seat and looked up at the moon. It was hidden behind a thin lair of clouds, a silver circle behind the dissipating storm.

"I don't know why I saved her. It just felt like the way to go. Maybe the world will turn just a little more smoothly; the lives of her community will be just a little bit richer. I don't know. I just saw that there was something I could do. And I did it."

Lisa sighed and stood, stretched, and hopped back up onto the porch.

"You're full of surprises, Yumichika," she said, turning to look over her shoulder at him. She reached her hand out and gripped the doorknob. She smiled, almost meekly and opened the door.

"Don't stay up too late."

* * *

_**author's note**_

_sorry for the wait everyone. finals week and whatnot._

_mad props to **jazzpha **and **matsumama **for giving it a once over. please **review. **i would appreciate the shit out of em._

_jta!~_

_**severed - mudvayne**_


	9. Angle of Repose

_**Angle of Repose**_

"How did you get away to talk to me?"

"Starrk's asleep," Harribel replied, "and Barragan and Szayel-Aporro are in Soul Society talking to Aizen."

"And Charlotte?"

"He knows better than to question my actions."

Despite this display of confidence, Harribel quickly looked back over her shoulder at the distant castle of _Las Noches. _She felt like she was being watched all the time now; the feeling didn't lessen with distance from the palace. She must have been at least fifty kilometers out into the desert, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Aizen Sousuke was standing right behind her.

She knew that coming out here was an enormous risk, but when she had heard the _garganta _quietly tear open and a recognizable _reiatsu _slink her way, she knew that her companion's visit was of utmost importance. She had to get out there right away.

Before anything else did.

"That's good," Neliel said with a cautious smile, her olive-colored eyes also flicking over companion's shoulder. "Still, I'll be quick."

"You should be. What are you here about?"

"Soi Fon and I are changing course."

"_What?_" Harribel snapped in shock, her voice uncharacteristically emotive. She never thought that, after years of planning, Neliel would simply change her mind like this. "I assume you have a good reason?"

"We met up with…" Neliel trailed off for a moment. "With some unforeseen allies."

Harribel remained silent.

"A Shinigami Lieutenant and a Vizard."

Silence.

"Apparently, the Vizards are also working against Aizen. They've already made strong ties with Soul Society's remaining forces and gathered almost double the soldiers than we would have had." She looked a little apologetic, but she was still offering up her reason for changing the plan. "Even at the final stage of _our _preparations."

Harribel let out a short sigh and looked her companion in the eyes. There was no point in arguing about it. If what Neliel was saying was true, then the other side's numbers were stronger. As long as Aizen was killed, it didn't matter who dealt the deathblow. If they had to force a temporary alliance with the Shinigami and the Vizards to increase their odds of winning, she would do it. Right now, the victory looked closer with this change of plan.

"Where are you going, then?"

Neliel thrust out a slip of paper. "Our new itinerary is all there. Memorize it and destroy it."

Harribel looked over the set of stops with the accompanying dates. The names of Neliel's two new companions were also on the page. She quickly read it and crumpled the sheet into a ball.

"Mongolia?"

"Yes," Neliel replied. "Apparently the Captain-commander is there, as are several other captains, including the one you let get away. Kuchiki."

Harribel chuckled. Coupled with her always-pleasant attitude, Neliel's conversational barbs always hit without making anyone mad.

"Well," the blonde Arrancar said. "I guess it was good that I slipped up."

"This time," Neliel said with a grin, opening a _garganta. _"Don't do it again, though."

"I can't afford to."

The former and current _Terceira _Espada looked at each other in silence, Neliel smiling as the jagged portal closed. Harribel sighed in her newfound solitude and looked up at the ever-present crescent in the sky. Her life had just gotten even more complicated than it had been before. She now had a thousand things to do in order to adjust to this change her plans.

_Their _plans.

She wasn't acting alone in this. First and foremost, she needed to tell Grimmjow and Ulquiorra about this sudden shift in arrangements – which was the absolute last thing she wanted to do. Giving Grimmjow bad news about Soi Fon was a task she'd never exactly prepared for. She sighed and vanished in a blast of _sonído, _appearing in front of the castle a moment later. She strode into the palace, quickly navigating her way towards the interior desert courtyard. She again flashed to the front door of her tower, _Los Grandes. _

She entered and walked up the stairs to Ulquiorra's room. He was sitting at a small white desk, a large map of southern Asia stretched across the flat surface. He made no indication that he noticed her arrival.

"I hope you let Neliel know," he said suddenly, his attention remaining on the map, "that her coming here was unnecessarily risky." He folded the map over and looked at her. "And extremely foolish."

"I'm sure she knew that," Harribel responded, hoping Ulquiorra didn't decide to lecture Neliel through her. The green-eyed Espada had a habit of lengthily explaining his disapproval, whether the offending party was around or not. "But I don't think she had much of a choice."

He stood up and placed his hands in his pockets. His eyes remained passionless, but his voice was filled with inquiry.

"Then this was an emergency?"

"Not in the strictest sense," she replied, turning and walking out of the room and knowing he would follow. "But it was still urgent."

He kept his silence as they walked out into the desert and towards _Los Menores, _the higher Espada's tower. Harribel also held her tongue, but she knew she couldn't stay silent for long against Ulquiorra. They entered the tower before she broke the impasse.

"She and Soi Fon have decided to alter their course."

"Oh?" he replied without hiding his surprise. "I assume she gave a reason?"

"Yes. I'll go into detail in a moment.

"I'll also assume you haven't told Grimmjow yet."

"Told Grimmjow what?"

They turned and found the blue-haired Espada walking behind them, half of a cold _panino_ in his hand. Ulquiorra closed his eyes and resumed his silence, immediately cutting himself off from his companion's accusatory glare. Grimmjow's eyes slid from the male Arrancar to his female counterpart. She couldn't bring any words to her mouth, her silence causing his face to contort from questioning to concerned, and he quickly closed the distance between himself and her. He briskly walked past his two cohorts and towards the stairwell, looking back over his shoulder quickly.

"If something's happened, we should talk about it upstairs."

His tone was like ice. Harribel and Ulquiorra followed in silence. She really didn't want to tell Grimmjow about Soi Fon's change of plans. She wasn't at all worried about hurting his feelings or how the news would affect him. Rather, she was more worried about how he would react physically. From the moment Neliel had made contact with Soi Fon a week ago, he had been nearly giddy with anticipation. It wasn't hard to guess why. Now that Soi had changed the plan like this, there was an extremely high possibility that he may never see her again.

If he only punched a hole through the wall, that would be good.

They were soon in his room. Grimmjow sat down roughly in his chair, tossing his unfinished lunch onto the desk in front of him. He didn't even watch it fall. He leaned back on the seat's two back legs, crossed his arms, and stared intently at Harribel.

She cleared her throat. "I just spoke with Neliel. She and Soi Fon have met up with Ayasegawa Yumichika and Yadomaru Lisa. They've decided to follow them to Mongolia where the Captain-commander has already amassed a sizeable fighting-force."

Grimmjow looked at her for a moment longer, his blue eyes staring at her intently as her brusque words settled in. He relaxed and let out a sharp huff.

"Jeez, you really had me worried there," he said with a smirk. "I thought you were about to tell me they'd been caught or somethin'."

Harribel relaxed, noticing that she had been holding her fists tightly clenched since they'd entered the room. She wasn't expecting this reaction out of Grimmjow, but she certainly wasn't unhappy with it. It felt like a weight had been lifted from her somehow. Perhaps she truly had been worried about his feelings. Still, she could tell that this relaxed act was just a front - Grimmjow was already hunched over his desk, his demeanor darkening.

"Well," Ulquiorra said, diverting her attention from Grimmjow. He immediately got to planning. "This is only a small diversion. Did Neliel happen to give you exact numbers of their forces?"

"No," she replied, "but she said that several captains were already there. She also mentioned that the Vizards were working with them."

"The Vizards?" he asked. "So they're also working from the inside?"

"According to Neliel."

"Should we let them know about us?"

"No. I think, that with our numbers as low as they are, we can still remain out of sight. If we start meddling in their plans now, with them aligning themselves with Soul Society, we run the risk of drawing attention to ourselves. We'd be better off waiting for an opportunity to strike from the shadows once they've started to act."

"I guess we're just fuckin' improvising now, huh?" Grimmjow quipped from the desk. He was now the two standing Espada, his appearance was only an inch above sullen. "You didn't think about telling Nel to just stick to the fuckin' plan?"

"No," Harribel responded curtly in response to Grimmjow's attitude. She may have felt sorry for him, but she was not about to let him bark at her like that. "Her itinerary showed that they've already been traveling this new course for a few days. It would ridiculously foolish to have them turn around now."

"What are we going to do about Hisagi and Lilynette?" Ulquiorra asked calmly as Grimmjow turned to face his desk once more.

"I'll deal with them," Harribel said harshly, her eyes staying on Grimmjow. "I can get to the real world and alert them to the change in plans before they get too far with—"

"Harribel?" Starrk's groggy voice came from the doorway. She snapped her head around and looked at him, his frame slumped lazily against the wall. His silver eyes slid across the room in sleepy, but calculated sweeps. They focused back on her. "What are you doing in here?"

"Ulquiorra and Grimmjow were wondering why Szayel-Aporro and Barragan were in Soul Society," she swiftly lied.

"What did you tell them?"

"All I know," she said bluntly. "That Aizen wanted to speak with them."

He sighed and turned away. "Okay."

Harribel turned and looked at Ulquiorra in silent affirmation that she would keep them both updated, and followed Starrk out of the room. The green-eyed Arrancar watched her leave before turning his attention to Grimmjow. While his old companion hadn't reacted violently, Ulquiorra could tell that the news had affected him hard. The blue-haired Espada had been eagerly counting the days that he would see Soi Fon again – his behavior during the conversation with Harribel was a glaring red-flag that he was angry.

"She made the right call," Ulquiorra said calmly, unsure of how to comfort his friend. He'd never been one for uplifting commentary, and despite knowing that it would be helpful at the moment, he couldn't seem to find the words.

Thinking logically, however, was something he was extremely good at doing. If he couldn't comfort his friend's heart, he could at least attempt to appeal to his mind.

"Even if she had continued along with the plan, we would have rendezvoused with her in New Delhi – along with Lilynette and Hisagi – and only had a fighting force of seven. If Harribel can get those two to meet up with Soi Fon and join the remaining Shinigami in Mongolia, they could be upwards of fifteen strong."

Grimmjow turned to the wall and looked out of his window, remaining silent. Ulquiorra closed his eyes and waited. If the other Arrancar wanted to break his silence, he would wait for it. If not, he would leave. There would be no point in pursuing the matter any further than what Grimmjow was comfortable talking about. Pushing it further would be pointless.

"I understand why she did it," Grimmjow said, shattering the impasse far sooner than Ulquiorra had predicted. He left his back turned. "But I ain't fuckin' happy about it."

"I would assume," Ulquiorra said, turning. He could imagine that Grimmjow didn't really have much else to say for now. He walked toward the door and glanced back over his shoulder before stepping out into the hallway. He stopped slowly and let out a sigh before turning back to face Grimmjow in full.

"Think of it like this," the green-eyed Espada said with a foreign softness. "She likely just gave the both of you a better chance for a longer future."

Grimmjow didn't move as Ulquiorra left, his body remaining silhouetted in the bright window.

* * *

"I'm going into the store," Lilynette said cheerfully as she walked. "You need anything?"

"Water," Hisagi responded, wiping his forehead with the back of his forearm. "If they've got any."

He watched the young woman bounce into the deserted store, her high-tops crunching on broken glass as she leapt through the shattered doorframe. He highly doubted that there would be anything of value inside the abandoned hovel. They'd been driving through the desert for the past few days and almost every town and building had been deserted. It looked as though most of the inhabitants had gotten out alive, taking most of their belongings with them before the Hollow had arrived. Some towns, however, had their streets littered with dried-out corpses. These towns were heavily looted, but they could still find some food if they looked hard enough.

Or were lucky enough.

He sighed and turned back to the jeep he was refueling. This was their second vehicle since leaving Africa; hidden landmines had destroyed the jeep prior to this one. They had been driving through Lebanon, an area that had obviously seen some conflict, when they'd hit the first explosive. It hadn't been very big – certainly not enough to harm either of them – but it had rendered their transport completely useless. Fortunately, a few days later they'd stumbled up an abandoned jeep outside of town.

Now that they were on some unidentifiable highway through southeastern Syria, they were finding fewer signs of warfare. He'd been driving on pins and needles for the past two days, his knuckles almost white in anticipation for the next landmine. That feeling was starting to go away now. It felt good. He figured that they could probably get to northern Iraq by tomorrow, but then he'd have to go down through the entire country – as well as Iran and Pakistan – to get to India before the week was over. Those were three places he really didn't want to drive through.

Maybe he could get Lilynette to do it.

The handle of the petrol nozzle clicked forward at his side, indicating that the fuel tank was full. He reached over and pulled it from the hole in the side of the jeep and hung it back on its hook. They were lucky that whoever had abandoned this place had left the pumps active. Rather, _he _was lucky that they still operated – Lilynette certainly wasn't going to be the one starting a gas siphon with her mouth and a hose.

He screwed the tank's cap on and looked over the jeeps roof, into the distance. Clear blue sky in every direction. He wasn't too sure on the region's climate patters, but he had a feeling that they were getting into the dry season now. Even back in Tunisia they were still getting a little rain. This place looked as though it hadn't seen a drop of water in at least a month.

"You like my new glasses?" he heard from behind him. Hisagi turned to catch a warm bottle of water that was sailing towards his head. He lowered it and looked at Lilynette and the large black glasses that covered up most of her face. There were lines of plastic that ran along the lenses that almost certainly obscured her vision. He scoffed.

"No," he said, walking around the front of the jeep as he unscrewed the cap to the water. "You look like a big bug."

"You have no style," she barked. "Let me drive."

"Never," he said, teasing, as he hopped in the driver's side door. "I still don't trust your skills."

"Whatever," she said, sliding into the seat next to him. "I'm like, the first and second best driver you know."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"At least _I _didn't blow up the last jeep."

"Well," he chuckled as he began to drive forward, "I'll just have to give you a chance to blow up this one, huh? You can take over in Iraq."

"Fine," Lilynette snapped. Hisagi knew that she hadn't studied up on the histories of the countries they were driving through. She had no idea that the next three days would take them through yet another war-crippled slice of the planet, littered with abandoned and hidden explosives.

Her eagerness to take up his challenge was quite amusing. In fact, the thing he liked best about the spitfire Arrancar at his side was her ability to entertain him. Hisagi Shuuhei had always possessed a more serious attitude than most of his peers. Even a handful of his superiors in his pre-captaincy were more relaxed than he was. Of course he would enjoy going to the bars and drinking with Kira and Ikkaku and everyone, but Lilynette seemed to bring a more playful and youthful side out of him. It was a part of his personality that, up until he'd met her, he hadn't even known existed.

Now that he knew about it, he never wanted it to leave.

"Sounds like a deal, kiddo. I…" he trailed off as a small _garganta _opened in front of the jeep. He slammed on the brakes, causing Lilynette to fling forward against her seatbelt as the vehicle skidded over the sandy road. A tall Arrancar with shaggy blonde hair stepped out from the blackness within the portal. Hisagi could see the large sword strapped to her back and he slowly began reaching for his own zanpakuto that was resting in the back seat.

"Is she…" Hisagi asked out of the side of his mouth. "Is she one of yours?"

"Yeah," Lilynette replied without looking away from Harribel in the road. She slowly opened the door of the automobile and swung one leg out over the sand. "But I have no idea why she's out here."

Lilynette stepped out and Hisagi quickly followed, snatching his zanpakuto from the back and leaping out of the jeep. He quickly walked to sidle up alongside her, always keeping his eyes on the Arrancar in front of them. Lilynette was acting funny – she was being oddly cautious around a woman that was supposed to be her comrade. She was far too quiet, as well; Hisagi couldn't remember a time that she was this silent. It made him nervous.

Hisagi gripped his katana tighter. He wanted to be ready to make the first attack if he needed to.

"Lilynette," the Arrancar said coolly, allowing her teal eyes to slide over to the sword that was gripped tightly in Hisagi's left fist. She brought her gaze up, slowly and deliberately, to his face. His throat tightened slightly as her eyes seized him. There was something frightening about her look, something predatory. From just one swift glance, Hisagi could tell that this woman was a warrior to the bone. For the first time since he'd fought Tousen, he felt intimidated by his opponent.

Or, at least, a woman he was hoping wasn't his opponent.

"Harribel," Lilynette replied. "What are you doing out here?"

"There's been a change of plans," Harribel said swiftly and sternly. Hisagi could tell she was trying to be quick. "You two need to head to Osh, Kyrgyzstan. In four days, you'll rendezvous with Neliel, Soi Fon, Ayasegawa Yumichika, and Yadomaru Lisa."

"What?" Hisagi barked. He hadn't actually meant to speak, but he'd gotten the Espada's attention so he continued. "They're together with a Vizard?"

Harribel looked at him in silence for a moment and turned her attention back to Lilynette. The younger woman glanced up at her superior for a moment and spoke in an uncharacteristically stern tone.

"Why the hell can't they all come meet with us?"

"The Captain-commander has already amassed a forceful opposition to Aizen. We've decided that you would be a beneficial addition to their ranks."

"Yeah, but why aren't they meeting up with us _first_?"

"They are already on their way to Mongolia."

"But—"

"This is _not_ up for discussion, Lilynette."

The _Séptima _Espada swallowed hard and looked at her superior defiantly.

"This is the plan now," Harribel said sternly. "Understood?"

Lilynette nodded slowly and spoke in a calmer voice. "What will you three be doing?"

"Waiting for the right time," Harribel said as she turned back to the _garganta _she'd left open. "Remember, Osh in four days."

Lilynette nodded once more, sharply, a single downward motion of her chin. The taller Espada glanced at Hisagi again and walked into the portal. It snapped shut almost immediately after she stepped in. He looked over at Lilynette – he could tell she had upset by this meeting. Her mouth was still tightly clenched, jaw muscles quivering under the skin of her cheeks. He knew she hated taking orders like that. She was just a tough as any Shinigami that he'd ever met, but she was extremely prideful. If she felt demeaned in any way, it would cut her to the core.

"So that was Harribel?" he asked.

"Yeah," Lilynette said and turned back to the car without a word.

He began to recall everything she had told him about the female Espada that was working with them. Their relationship had always been somewhat of a strained one. When Lilynette was doing a good job, Harribel treated her almost like her own daughter. If something had gone wrong, however, Lilynette quickly felt like an outsider, a simple recruit. For reasons she hadn't really gone into, she hated feeling alone. While his observations had always led him to believe that she detested being talked down at, her own admissions always revolved around her fear of being left behind. Her actions during that debate made him think that whatever Harribel had just done had heightened that fear.

She'd never admit it, but somehow he knew that she was risking a lot more than just her life with this mission.

"Hey," he said, tossing the keys at her. She turned and caught them, giving them a strange look before glancing up at him.

"What're these for?"

"You drive," he said with a smile as he walked toward the passenger side of the car, tousling her hair slightly as he walked by. "If we're going to get to Osh in time, we need to start planning a route now and I'm better at reading the map than you are."

He opened the passenger door and got in, ducking his head to look out the window and look at her. She was looking at him with slight incredulity.

"Besides," he smiled, "you're like, the first and second best driver I know."

She let out a small laugh. "Yeah, I know."

Lilynette smiled and climbed into the jeep. She leaned over the middle compartment and kissed him slowly. She smiled again and shifted the vehicle forward and drove away.

* * *

Grimmjow stood out on the precipice, the dome of _Las Noches _to his back and the darkness of night in his face. He closed his eyes and attempted to relax in the cool, stale air of Hueco Mundo. The bright inside of the dome had gotten far too irritating for him. Szayel-Aporro and Barragan had come back from their meeting in Soul Society earlier than expected, and the pink-haired fairy-boy scientist had immediately gotten on his nerves. Something he'd done had pleased Aizen and he couldn't stop blabbering on about it or about how brilliant he was.

Grimmjow had escaped to the rooftop if only to refrain from tearing Szayel-Aporro's head off.

Harribel hadn't gotten back in time, either. She was supposed to get to the real world, talk to Lilynette and Hisagi, and be back before Barragan returned. She had taken a while getting Starrk to leave her alone, though, and she had only had fifteen minutes. Barragan and Szayel-Aporro had been back for almost five minutes, and those two acted like Aizen's eyes and ears. If she was caught coming back from the real world, they would be fucked.

Still, it was very strange for her to be late. He hadn't come out here to look for her, but now that she was missing, he was quite intrigued.

A buzzing sounded at his right let him know that his worries were for nothing.

"Harribel," he said, keeping his eyes forward. "You really took your time getting back."

"I knew I wasn't going to make it quickly enough," she said as she wasted no time walking past him and toward the roof-access stairwell, "so I decided to open the _garganta _as far away as possible and use _sonído_ to get back. It draws less attention."

"Sure," he said. "How'd it go?"

"Lilynette tried to fight me on it, but that was to be expected," she replied. "Despite what she wants, they'll both be joining up with Soi Fon and Neliel in four days."

Grimmjow looked over his shoulder at her retreating form, smirked, and let out a short, barking laugh. "Sounds like Mama Bear had to smack on of her cubs, huh?"

She entered the stairwell and ended the conversation there. Which was fine – Grimmjow didn't really have anything more to say to her on the subject. He was fine with Harribel letting him know she wasn't interested in his internal dilemma, as evidenced by the way she hastily made her exit from the rooftop. Sure, the Soi Fon thing was weighing on him. Sure, he could probably talk about it now. But he'd rather not go weeping his fucking heart out to someone who didn't want to listen.

Besides, he was starting to feel a little better.

He sighed and walked to the stairs once he was sure she'd gotten to the bottom level. He opened the door and trudged down to the last floor, stairs ending in the quadrant of desert that held his tower. He slipped his hands into his pockets and walked towards it, not bothering to use _sonído. _He needed time to think and he thought best while he was moving. He'd already spent most of the afternoon pacing around his room and swimming through murky clouds of thought. Perhaps a change of scenery would be exactly what he needed to start altering his mindset.

With Soi Fon and the others connecting with Unohana, Grimmjow was left with only two immediate allies. Once they got to Mongolia, they were no longer within his jurisdiction. Hell, they were already out of his control. Getting any sort of message to the real world was incredibly difficult. He knew that the moment Neliel left to find Soi, it would be radio-silence.

He'd trusted that Soi and Neliel would be able to reach New Delhi without a problem. Nothing had really changed for the worse. She would soon be traveling with five companions instead of three. She should have no problem arriving in Mongolia in one piece. He trusted that Unohana will have a plan ready for when they get there. He needed to stop focusing on them and start his worrying about his own situation, about what he and Ulquiorra and Harribel were going to do.

Harribel didn't want to let the Vizards know about them and Grimmjow was fine with that. He and Ulquiorra already had an all-seeing-eye on them constantly – any attempt they made to get in touch with the Vizards would only increase their risk of getting caught. Nothing the hybrids had to offer them was worth that.

He entered _Los Menores _and walked up the stairs toward his room. He didn't really want to go back in there, but he had nowhere else to go.

Now that they were acting only as a trio meant that they had to come up with an entirely new plan. Harribel suggested waiting to strike when the time is right, but that was a plan they would have to execute perfectly to succeed. And they still had no idea what Soul Society's plans were. If they're only planning on going after Aizen in _Seireitei, _then will he have to make a plan to aid them there? Are they going to attempt to divide their forces into two teams – one for Hueco Mundo and one for Soul Society? Will Aizen request Ulquiorra and Harribel to accompany him in _Seireitei _while Grimmjow has to act alone within _Las Noches?_

His head was starting to hurt. He needed to talk to Ulquiorra and Harribel about this, but the two of them were still most likely listening to whatever briefing Barragan has from Aizen. He'd have to find some way to kill time until he could at least speak with Ulquiorra.

He exited the stairwell and froze immediately, his nostrils twitching. His hands balled into fists as he smelled the unmistakable aroma of decay and formaldehyde. The disgusting scent seemed to fill the halls. He had needed to waste a few hours until he could brainstorm with his companions and Szayel-Aporro Granz had just given him the perfect time-killer.

Grimmjow stormed down the hall toward the labs, his hand already grabbing for the sword at his waist. He'd made it perfectly clear to Szayel-Aporro the last time – if the building started to stink again, it would cost him his ass. If the scientist had thought he'd only been making threats, today was the absolute worst day to call the bluff. Whatever progress Grimmjow had made on improving his mood had just vanished in one whiff of flesh and chemicals.

Grimmjow Jaggerjaquez was gonna kill the fucker.

He sliced down the door and bolted into the room, immediately ramming his fist into the pink-haired Arrancar's jaw. Szayel-Aporro had been spinning up from his chair when the blow hit and he was sent toppling backwards over the operating table behind him. He and the cadaver both slammed into a table of vials and beakers, sending a rain of glass and solvents down upon them. The impromptu mixture of volatile liquids began to eat away at whatever it touched. Szayel-Aporro's jacket began to dissolve, but his _hierro_ protected his skin from any harm as he struggled to recover from the blow. The corpse, on the other hand, began to melt into a vile puddle of viscera, causing the stench in the room to grow far worse.

This, in turn, made Grimmjow even angrier. He slashed out with his sword, opening a long gash in Szayel-Aporro's exposed chest. The scientist held out his hand in a feeble attempt to halt the assault. His eyes were panicked as his outstretched arm gestured for Grimmjow to stop, but the blue-haired Espada only tried to slice it off. Szayel-Aporro quickly leapt back, the tip of the _katana_ opening his palm as he retreated. His footing was unsure and Grimmjow lunged forward, planting his right foot in Szayel-Aporro's gut. He stumbled backwards, knocking into more computers and vats as he tumbled over a counter.

Grimmjow noticed that the lab had suddenly filled with a dozen or so of Szayel-Aporro's idiot _fracción, _but they were all poking their shivering snouts out at him from the shadows at the perimeter of the lab. Grimmjow stalked forward, causing one of the drones to rush forward in defense of its master. It hurled itself at him, but Grimmjow grabbed it by the face and slammed it into the ground. He looked down at the frightened monster's eyes, the two wide orbs peeking out from between his fingers. He began to charge a _cero _in his palm and his mouth widened into a ghastly smirk.

"Hey," he growled bestially. "Get lost."

He demolished a good portion of the floor and stood up from the burnt carcass. The _fracción _had all scattered, but the master had recovered and was up and running to the back corner of the lab. Grimmjow could see that his opponent had left his zanpakuto propped up against the wall and immediately set after him. He wanted to get to Szayel-Aporro's sword first.

And then pin him to the fucking wall with it.

He lunged forward once more but Szayel-Aporro's _Fornicarás_ blocked his _Pantera _before he could slice him in half. The scientist glared at him from behind the defense, his back pressed to the wall. But the fear was gone from his features. Instead, he looked over his glasses at Grimmjow with a sneering sense of superiority.

"Oh my," he snickered, "you're in trouble now, Grimmjow."

"You ain't too important to be replaced," Grimmjow hissed back. "Aizen wouldn't fucking blink if I killed you."

"I would never dispute that," was the response, "but he's certainly not going to be happy that you just turned one of my prime test subjects into a puddle of goop. After all, he _only _just finished telling me how intrigued he was in my reanimation program."

Grimmjow couldn't say anything to that, but he kept the pressure on Szayel-Aporro's blade. He needed to make sure the little fucker wasn't bluffing.

The scientist barked out a laugh and continued. "Don't let it worry you too much. I'm sure you can explain to him tomorrow – _in person_ – why you decided to destroy one of his new possessions."

Grimmjow lowered his sword almost immediately, his mouth hanging open in shock. The news hit him like a punch. Szayel-Aporro chuckled and walked past him, sheathing his sword. Grimmjow turned and looked and the sneering scientist, his eyes wide.

"Aizen is coming here?"

* * *

**_author's note_**

_as usual, sorry about the wait. new semester started and then my old roommate (who actually introduced me to bleach) got married last week, so i've been mad stupid busy._

_things are truckin along over in hueco mundo, it would seem. grimm and ulq and harribel aren't having an easy time - which is to be expected, i guess. they are in the heart of enemy territory. poor guys. nobody's having a good time in this story. except maybe hisagi (cuz even lilynette is mad about something now). i treat these characters too harshly sometimes, i swear._

_ thank to everyone who has **review**ed so far. i usually reply to **review**s, but i've been slacking off lately. so if i never respond, know that i still appreciate the **review.**_

_also thanks to **jazzpha **and **matsumama **for the usual. go read some of their stuff - it's pretty darned good._

_what's good,_

_**jta!~**_

_**angle of repose - sleepytime gorilla museum**_


	10. Slaverider

_**RFID Slaverider**_

Kurosaki Isshin stopped walking once he reached the top of the hill and looked at the setting sun. He let loose a sigh and pulled the pack of cigarettes he'd just bought out of his jackt's pocket. He packed them against the heel of his palm quickly, expertly, and tore open the top, pulling out one of the white tubes. He had really only wanted one, but the shop down the street from the graveyard didn't sell singles and he'd been forced into buying twenty.

_I'll probably need more than one anyway, _he thought as he lit it, _for tonight._

He exhaled the smoke and turned around, facing the headstone behind him. It wasn't Masaki's grave. In fact, he couldn't even read the name on the strange stone tablet – he wasn't wearing one of Urahara's fancy translating _gigai. _Still, he had figured that he should at least visit _someone's_ grave on the anniversary of his wife's death.

He took another drag of his cigarette, looked at the foreign name once more, and walked over to a nearby bench. He brushed some dirt from the wooden planks – he didn't want his suit to get dirty – and sat down with a groan.

_Oh man, _he thought as he looked out over the foreign city below him, _I'm gettin' old._

When Urahara Kisuke had called two years ago, telling him that the Vizards had sided with the Arrancar, telling him to be careful, the first thing Isshin had done was call his girls and told them to convince their families to leave the city. He didn't know how they'd done it, but they had gotten out before Aizen had emerged from hiding to destroy Karakura. They were both safely in Australia now.

Ichigo had somehow made it to Urahara's a week later.

With his children protected for the moment, Isshin had fled to the King's dimension and begged the ruler to let him serve in the army again. He hadn't really expected to be allowed back in, no matter what rank. When he'd received his old position as a Guardsman, he'd been shocked at first. It seemed that the royal dimension was just that cautious; nobody knew what Aizen and his army were capable of any more. With the hybrids on his side, as well as the _hougyoku, _the King didn't want to be overthrown simply because he turned down an offer for assistance.

This meant that, after almost forty years on the sidelines, Kurosaki Isshin was thrown back into battling. With his salt and pepper hair and his flabby midsection, the first six months had been absolute torture for him. He'd mostly been sent up against traitorous Shinigami, which wasn't too bad – enough to get back into shape a little. He'd been feeling pretty confident with himself until he'd faced the _Terceira_ Espada, Tia Harribel. In that fight, he'd almost lost an arm.

Still, he had almost taken her head.

That was over a year ago now – they hadn't entered a skirmish with Aizen's forces for quite some time.

He looked at his watch and sighed again. His appointment was running late. He took a final drag of his cigarette and dropped it down to the cobblestones below, exhaling in irritation as he crushed it below the heel of his shoe. He hadn't even wanted to come out here in the first place, but he had a feeling that he would regret it if he hadn't agreed to meet. He was already in a bad enough mood with it being Masaki's anniversary – a factoid the man he was meeting was sure to have known about that. Isshin wouldn't be surprised if it was done on purpose, just to mess with him ahead of time.

It seemed strange for this meeting to start late. Isshin had always figured the man who made it would be a little punctual than this, especially since he'd practically demanded for them to meet with one another in the first place.

Isshin pulled out another cigarette, lighting it in the failing light, hoping that it would calm him a little more. He wanted to dominate the meeting that was coming up – if he was grumpy or nervous, he would lose whatever edge he had in the upcoming debate. He wasn't an expert linguist like this guy. He needed every bit of edge he could hang on to.

"Kurosaki Isshin," Aizen Sousuke said, his voice as smooth as cream. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

Isshin turned toward the voice, the leader of the opposing army stepping under a lamppost immediately after it flickered on. Much to the older Shinigami's surprise, Aizen was wearing a _gigai. _He was dressed in a light grey suit, the shirt and tie both matching shades of purple. It didn't look as though he had a weapon with him.

Isshin stood. "A _gigai?_ I certainly wasn't expecting you to wear one of those."

"I should say the same to you."

"I couldn't buy cigarettes without one," Isshin replied with a smile, lifting up the hand with the cigarette.

"Then consider this a trial run for my own prototype," Aizen said coolly. "I'll probably be using them soon. After all, it seems to have been successful."

Isshin dragged on his cigarette and said nothing.

Aizen smiled and continued. "Unless I am mistaken in assuming you couldn't detect my reiatsu as I approached?"

"Why did you want to meet with me?" Isshin asked dryly, ignoring the question.

"Because I would like to make a deal with you."

"And what would that be?"

"I may be running into a small problem soon," Aizen said, walking past the bench. Isshin stood and walked with him. "A group of pests I'll need to eliminate."

"What's left of Soul Society, I would assume?"

Aizen nodded. "The same."

"So you've finally found where they've been hiding?"

"I have reason to believe so."

"And what's that got to do with me?"

"I want you to ensure that while I busy myself with them, the Royal Guard refrains from attacking my army."

"That's a tall order to fill, Aizen," Isshin replied after a brief moment of thought. "The King ain't exactly swayable once he gives his orders, you know."

"I'm sure you would find a way to persuade him."

"What makes you think that?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Aizen asked, stopping. "Your agreement is the only way I'd allow your son to live through the attack."

Isshin also stopped, pulling at the last of his cigarette as the final shades of red vanished from the horizon. He let the smoke out slowly, absent-mindedly dropping the filter from his hand. He didn't step on it, instead allowing it to roll freely down the hill. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared out at the vacant city below. Aizen was waiting patiently at his side, his ever-present smile calmly boring into the side of the older man's face. Isshin took his time thinking; he knew Aizen could wait all night for his reply.

"Ichigo's with them, finally?" Isshin asked after a minute.

"Yes."

"Is it still just Kisuke out there leading the march?"

"Do you think I would come to you with this deal, Kurosaki Isshin," Aizen said, almost curtly, "if I only had to worry about Urahara Kisuke?"

"So Unohana is with him, too?"

"Indeed."

Kurosaki Isshin let out a sharp breath and turned to Aizen, his mouth curved up into a small smirk.

"Then I'll have to decline this offer of yours."

Aizen didn't make a sound.

He hardly reacted at all.

Yet he did.

If Isshin hadn't been studying his face as intently as he was, he would have missed the fraction of a second that Aizen Sousuke's smile wavered. His own smile grew.

"Let me tell you somethin' Aizen," Isshin continued jovially, as if they were old friends. "This deal you've brought to me was a waste of your time from the start. You have nothin' to worry about from us in the Guard. I mean, why do you think we've been ignoring your little army for so long?"

Aizen remained stoic. His smile had returned in full, but his silence told Isshin all he needed to know.

"It's because we aren't worried about you." Isshin said coldly.

"Mockery isn't exactly a suitable tone for this discussion," Aizen replied finally, coolly.

"I'm not mocking you," Isshin barked defensively. "Just tellin' the truth. Every time we've fought with your forces, it was because _you_ initiated a battle. You stopped attacking us a while back and we stopped caring."

Isshin pulled out and lit a third cigarette, Aizen waiting in silence for him to continue.

"So like I said before, this deal of yours was a waste of effort."

Isshin turned, leaving Aizen to stand alone.

"I'll be sure to tell Ichigo before I kill him," Aizen said, "that his father threw away his life without a second thought."

"You said he was with Unohana and Kisuke," Isshin said, walking away. "I'm sure he'll be fine." He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "After all, Ichigo would be really pissed at me if I did somethin' like that."

He took another drag of his cigarette and dropped it to the ground before walking away.

"Later, Aizen."

* * *

_Don't get too comfortable, your highness._

Kurosaki Ichigo snapped awake with a tiny gasp, his heart beating violently against the inside of his ribcage. He stared at the ceiling as he tried to force himself to relax, his chest heaving up and down in the wake of his nightmare.

It was almost sunrise, he could tell from the faint light that was coming in from his open window. He took another breath and swept his legs out from beneath the blanket he'd been, until recently, sleeping under comfortably. He placed his feet on the ground and put his elbows on his knees, resting his eyes in his palms as he yawned. He hadn't been getting much sleep lately, but he was thankful that he'd been able to snooze until sunrise this time.

With a groan, he stood from the mattress and walked toward the large suitcase in the corner. He'd been living out of the thing for the past year now – he didn't even need the closet and cupboards that the hotels provided for him anymore. He sometimes wondered – if things ever got back to normal – if he would ever be able to use a chest of drawers again. Probably.

He dug out a pair of baggy corduroys and slipped them on, the dark brown pants immediately taking away the chill the early morning had put on his bare legs. He'd left his window open when he'd fallen asleep last night. The air of the prior evening had been very pleasant, but it had gotten a lot colder over the course of the night. He tugged on a thin, flannel shirt and went for the door. He didn't bother with the pair of shoes he left in the corner of the room next to where Zangetsu was propped up.

He stepped out into the hallway and rubbed his eyes against the bright lights of the hotel. He continued walking toward the dining area, letting out a long yawn. He opened his eyes and immediately stopped himself from running into one of the girls who worked in the hotel.

"Oh," he said with a wide smile, "I'm sorry."

She smiled meekly at him and they stepped around each other. He couldn't remember her name – she and her twin sister were the daughters of the old family that ran the place. Neither of the women would talk to him, no matter how friendly he was to them. The same went for Byakuya, but Ichigo could understand why they wouldn't want to talk to him. He was still a stiff nobleman, despite how much he'd lightened up over the past two years. He let out another yawn and continued walking.

It was getting harder and harder to wake up anymore. His Hollow was looking for any way to take control of him now, going so far as to make attempts to take power while Ichigo was asleep. The last time his inner-demon had tasted freedom had been enough to re-awaken its lust for control, and it was going to claw its way to the surface come hell or high water.

Ichigo had died.

After his battle with Tesla in Karakura, Ichigo had barely escaped with his life. Zangetsu had been able to briefly give him the strength to battle, but the Zanpakuto spirit hadn't been able to mend the wounds that the Espada had given him. He had been on the verge of dying when he'd found Yumichika's unconscious body nearby, but he'd picked up his companion and pressed forward. He wasn't about to leave his friend for dead just because he was losing a lot of blood.

When he'd made it outside of the town, however, he'd fallen to the ground dead.

As someone who had died a few times before, the feeling wasn't exactly strange to him. Comparing death as a human to death as a Shinigami was so naïve that it was almost childish. When he'd died as a human, it had been quick and painful being ripped out of his body. As a dying Shinigami, he'd felt light, almost as if the faint breeze that had been blowing that afternoon could have picked him up and carried him away. The pain of his injuries, the weight of Yumichika's body, the guilt of Orihime's death – all of it had vanished and it was only himself left and the comfort of release.

His Hollow wasn't having any of it.

His pale doppelg___ä_nger had quickly taken control, spitting out some insult about his body and his mind and how weak they both were. Ichigo had still been drifting away nebulously when the creature had taken control. He felt his body stand, numbly, and begin to walk away from where he'd left Yumichika. Absurdly, Ichigo's only protest to the Hollow's control had been to return for the lieutenant. That, oddly enough, had been the thing to bring him back from the brink. He didn't want to leave a friend behind.

Somewhere out in the world, if he was still alive, Chad would be proud.

Ichigo couldn't really remember how he'd wrested control back from the demon. When he'd come to, he'd had to backtrack nearly twenty kilometers to retrieve his dying companion. His own wounds had been miraculously sealed; he didn't know it at the time, but he'd later found out that his Hollow could perform high-speed regeneration. Not nearly as fast as what he'd seen Ulquiorra use in the past, but quick enough to keep his body intact.

The entire journey to Urahara's hideaway in Kamchatka was a blur. He might have been superficially healed, but the fatigue of battle and travel left his mind in a daze. He couldn't even recall how he knew how to get to the secret base – his memory simply placed him there one day. After a week under the scientist's care, he and Yumichika had taken off. They hadn't known where they were going, only that they needed to put as much distance between themselves and Karakura as possible.

They had split ways in Budapest. Ichigo hadn't really wanted to leave Yumichika – the two of them had formed a pretty solid friendship in their time together killing Hollow. He had to leave him, though. His own Hollow was starting to get out of control again. Sometimes he would be saving some human from a _Gillian _and he could feel the ominous cloud of his inner-demon clawing at whatever barrier Ichigo had placed within himself. He didn't want to put Yumichika in jeopardy by continuing to travel with him. He couldn't put anyone at risk.

He'd been out training in the desert, entering his own inner world to confront his Hollow. He'd told Yumichika that he was headed for India, but that was a lie. He had needed to go somewhere secluded, where he couldn't hurt anyone, and stay there for as long as possible. He wasn't going to lose control again.

He'd been making very little progress when Unohana had found him. She'd asked him to come with her and he'd reticently agreed. He'd decided to follow her for two reasons: the first was that if his Hollow _did_ manage to break through and seize control of his body again, he knew she would be able to restrain him until he beat it back.

The second reason was that she'd looked miserable and lonely.

It hadn't been until they'd picked up Byakuya in Iraq that she'd talked about Aizen and Shunsui's capture. She also held suspicions that Ulquiorra was still aligned with Soul Society, but she wouldn't go into detail on the subject and Ichigo wasn't about to press her about it. If she felt that way, fine. He trusted her judgment.

He'd spent another year with the two of them. His Hollow had decided to take it easy – it seemed to understand that if it made a grab for power and succeeded, it would instantly be destroyed by Ichigo's two traveling companions. The creature within him could see well enough that it would be suicide; its own sense of self-preservation kept it temporarily kowtowed.

The trio had eventually reached Mongolia and Ichigo had been allowed another few months of inner-peace before the monster decided to mutiny once more. Ichigo knew he couldn't wait any longer, hoping that the thing would just go away eventually. He had to do something, but he had run out of ideas on how to stop it from killing him.

He went looking for Urahara Kisuke. He was the bastard that put the Hollow in him in the first place, and he was gonna be the bastard to fix it.

"Ichigo."

Speak of the devil.

Ichigo had just stepped into the dining hall when Urahara's voice called to him from a table. He was sitting at the furthest corner table with Unohana and Byakuya, each of them with a small bowl in front of them. Ichigo gave a tired wave and headed their way, his eyes scanning the room. To his disappointment, it was empty. He'd been back in Mongolia for a few days now and he'd become quite chatty with a human couple from Brazil. Looked as though they'd moved on – they had said that they were only staying in town for a little bit anyway. They'd been traveling around the world since the Hollow disaster had begun, the wealth they'd accumulated in their prior lives fueling their adventures. They could both see the Hollow quite clearly and had seen the Shinigami throughout the world that would kill the monsters. Probably why they had been so comfortable chatting with the young Japanese man who spoke perfect Portuguese.

_Gonna miss them, _he thought as he neared his fellow Shinigami, remembering his nightmare. _They were the only people up at the weird hours I was._

He sat down and Bolormaa, the old woman that ran the kitchen, wobbled over to him with a cup of broth.

"Thank you very much, mother," he said, taking it from her leathery hands.

"Drink it all, Orange," she replied before hobbling back to the kitchen.

He took a sip of the salty soup and looked at the three Shinigami at the table.

He smiled. "What are you guys doing up so early?"

"Are you implying that we don't wake up early enough?" Byakuya replied.

"Never this early," Ichigo responded, sipping his stew. "Usually I have to eat breakfast alone."

"And here I thought you simply didn't eat breakfast," Unohana responded lightly. "Turns out you simply eat it before everyone else."

Ichigo nodded, but his brown eyes were searching the faces of his companions. They were acting too "in-character" for his tastes. Byakuya being dismissive and Unohana playing polite – the three of them had long ago broken through the barrier of old times. He didn't like that they were acting this way.

"What's up?" he asked. "You guys look pretty damned gloomy."

"We have reason to believe," Unohana said lightly, "that Aizen knows where we are. And what we're up to."

"Well," Ichigo replied without pause, "that shouldn't really surprise any of us, right? I mean, the guy basically orchestrated his revenge from beyond the grave. I don't think he could do anything now that would leave me wondering 'how did he know?'"

"Of course we aren't surprised, Kurosaki," Byakuya replied curtly. "However, it still leaves us needing a plan for when he does attack us."

"We don't have one already?" Ichigo asked, mildly intrigued. "I can't believe for a second that you haven't thought that far ahead."

"Of course we have, Ichigo," Unohana replied. "I had, perhaps naïvely, assumed that we would have time enough for Yadomaru Lisa and Ayasegawa Yumichika to arrive. Now that we don't have them to aide us, we need to think of an alternate course of action."

"It's only a little set-back though, right?" Ichigo asked. "Ol' sandal-hat here said that the Vizards were on our side. Well, if Aizen makes a move, then wouldn't they also do something from the inside?"

"It's not that easy, Ichigo," Urahara said, speaking up finally. He looked at Ichigo grimly from beneath his hat and blonde bangs."I wouldn't want to rely on their willingness to act early on our behalf. Knowing Hirako, he's got something up his sleeve and it would be quite inconvenient for him to throw it away to help us out of turn."

"You really think he would just leave us out on the wire like that?"

Urahara Kisuke shot him a cross look.

"Yeah," Ichigo replied, drinking from his soup once more. "I guess he really _would _leave us out to dry if he had to. So what're we thinking of? What's the new plan?"

"Urahara and I will be leaving to prepare for Aizen's attack," Unohana said.

"Well that's a retarded plan," Ichigo blurted out.

"Howso?" Urahara asked lightly, sweeping his mood up from deadly to mockingly-friendly in a moment.

"'Cuz then if he does attack us here," Ichigo replied harsly, "it would just leave me and Byakuya and Yoruichi here to fight him."

"I told you he was going to say that," Byakuya replied, his eyes closed as he sipped at his breakfast.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ichigo asked. "Call me nuts, but that's a pretty fuckin' huge disadvantage."

"Yes, it _could_ be," Yoruichi replied from behind him as she pulled a chair up to their table. "But I think if that happened, the three of us would be quick enough to get away."

"So the plan would be to keep running?"

"Unless you've got a better one?" Urahara asked.

Ichigo opened his mouth but nothing came out. He hated being on the run like this. His Hollow was keeping him on edge at all times and that was bothersome enough; having Aizen watching their every move was almost unbearable. He couldn't stand living in fear and helplessness like this, but he knew that there wasn't much else they could do for now.

"Alright," he said, finally. "Then at least tell me what the two of you are goin' off to do."

"Ichigo," Urahara replied, "you should know by now that I don't tell you any of my plans."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Wonderful."

"Don't worry," Unohana remarked. "If Urahara and I can complete these preparations before Aizen attacks, we may be able to destroy him."

"I hope you're right."

He tipped the bowl in his hands up once more, drinking all but a little bit of the breakfast that had been given to him. He'd learned that Bolormaa would refill his bowl if he emptied it, no matter how much he protested, and his own upbringing told him to never leave food on his plate. He had to control his urge to finish his meals unless he wanted to have seconds. Or thirds.

The rest of the Shinigami at the table stood to leave and Ichigo followed suit.

"Are you leaving _now_?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Of course they are, Ichigo," Yoruichi barked playfully. "You think we've got time to waste?"

"No, but…" he trailed off. He looked Urahara dead in the eyes. "Kisuke, I need to talk to you."

Urahara looked at him carefully and then turned his head at the rest of the group, smiling warmly.

"Of course you do," he said. "Captain-commander, I'll be with you shortly."

Unohana smiled and turned away, Yoruichi and Byakuya following and leaving the two men alone in the dining hall. Ichigo stared at his old mentor for a moment, struggling for the words to explain what he needed. Even when he'd found the two of them in Russia, he hadn't been able to properly enlighten them on his situation. They'd just followed him because he'd told them about Unohana's plans.

"You're having some troubles with your Hollow, eh?"

"Wha-?" Ichigo blurted as Urahara grinned.

"I figured you would. I'm actually quite surprised that you've lasted so long without a tune-up."

"_Tune-up?_" Ichigo growled. "You think this is that simple?"

"I do _now_," Urahara said, turning back toward his room. "Back when you first became a Vizard you were still… kind of an _experiment_."

"Remind me, Mr. Hat-and-Clogs," Ichigo growled as a knot formed above his right eye, "why I haven't killed you yet?"

"But thanks to a recent test subject of mine," Urahara replied, ignoring Ichigo's gruffness, "I've figured out a way to fully subdue that little monster you've got raging inside you."

Ichigo's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

"Indeed."

Ichigo followed him in silence for bit, his head spinning. Was it really this simple? Had Urahara actually figured out a way for him to completely subdue his Hollow? Forever? Since when did he possess such a…

_Since when?_

"Wait," Ichigo called, "what do you mean by 'recent test subject'?"

"No no," Urahara Kisuke said as he opened the door to his room. "I can't tell you anything else. I promised not to."

* * *

Sarugaki Hiyori walked calmly through the Seireitei, her arms folded over her chest. She didn't want to be spotted out in this area of the Court so late at night. The last thing she needed was get caught by Shinji after she'd been rummaging through his mail.

She'd found a letter from Lisa on his desk. The envelope hadn't been opened yet, but she could tell from the handwriting on it that it was from her. Curiosity had gotten the best of her and she'd torn it open. The letter itself had been rather lackluster, which was to be expected. Sending things into Soul Society was dangerous enough as it was – to explain things in depth would be absolutely stupid. Lisa had cryptically gotten across that she needed to talk to Shinji. That was it. She hadn't even signed it.

Hiyori was tired of sitting around waiting for Shinji to tell everyone what to do. For the past two years, she and the rest of the Vizards had been walking on eggshells, pretending to be obedient, obeying Aizen's every beck and call. She was getting fucking sick of it. Now was her chance to actually do something and prove to that dickless bastard Shinji that she could be just as smart as he thought he was.

If Lisa wanted to meet with someone in the real world, so much so that she risked writing a letter, Hiyori was going to oblige her. From what she'd been able to gather, something big had happened with Lisa's plans and she needed to talk to Shinji about it. She hadn't said where she was, of course, but Hiyori more or less knew her itinerary and could guess where she was from there. Once she got into the real world, actually finding Lisa would be pretty simple.

She stopped before she entered one of the large courtyards that were located on Seireitei's four corners. She needed to open up a gate to the human world, but she needed to get as far away from the first division as possible. Aizen wasn't there, which was a miracle – he was off meeting with _someone. _Which meant that his all-seeing eye was out for the evening; she could actually get away with doing something so damned suicidal. Aizen would let Shinji go between Hueco Mundo and the real world as often as he wished, so he never had to be this sneaky. This was a perfect opportunity for her to prove to him that she could lead the group.

Once he goes and gets himself killed, of course.

She peeked out from behind the corner, the large courtyard in front of her deserted. She figured she'd be able to make the gate quickly and quietly and without showcasing too much energy. She really should be doing this out in the _Rukongai, _but she wouldn't have time to get out there and back before Aizen might return.

This thought reminded her how little time she had to complete her task. She needed to move fast and she needed to move now. She took a quick breath and spun out from the narrow alley and into the court.

She leapt backwards just in time to dodge a blade that would have taken her head off at the neck. She stumbled and fell on her back, her eyes glaring angrily at the long blade that stretched across the night sky. She traced the length of it up to the rooftop on the opposite side of the courtyard, where it seemed to spawn from the blackness of space beyond. She was smarter than to question the blade's origins; she knew exactly who was on the other end of this zanpakuto.

"Ichimaru, what the hell are ya doin'!" she bellowed.

The blade was suddenly gone, its whole length retracting in the blink of an eye. Hiyori scrambled to her feet as Ichimaru Gin strolled toward her from the other end of the square. She was starting to feel really uncomfortable with him being here.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Hiyori," he said lightly, holding his hands up in apology. His sword was still in his hands, unsheathed. "I guess I got a little jumpy seein' ya movin' in the shadows. After all, nobody's allowed out here after dark, ya know."

_Shit. _

She was trapped – she hadn't figured that Gin would notice she was out here. She needed to find a way to get out of the courtyard as fast as possible, but Gin was quickly approaching her from the far walls.

"Well maybe you should look before you shoot, ya fuckhead!" she growled as her mind raced to keep up with him. She would play along with his bullshit innocent act until she could wriggle her way out of whatever line of questioning he was about to begin.

"I know, I really should," he said, stopping. His smile widened. "I'm usually so darn good about my aim, too. I wonder what made me so trigger-happy when I saw ya?"

"Well don't let it happen again," she said, walking away at the first chance he gave her. All thoughts of Lisa were gone from her head; the only thing she could think about now was getting away before Gin realized that she was up to something.

In a flash of light, _Shinsou _was sticking out of the wall in front of her face. She almost yelped out in surprise as she flipped back, barely avoiding another strike. And another. She leapt back once more before vanishing in a flash, reappearing in the center of the courtyard. Her hand was gripping her own zanpakuto and she turned to face Gin's smile.

"See what I mean?" he asked with a sneer. "You just bein' here has got me so… _trigger-happy."_

Despite knowing it was a stupid move, Hiyori slid her _katana _from its scabbard and leveled it at Gin. His smile fell in a well-practiced fashion, both feigning concern and mocking her threat at the same time. She knew she didn't really have a chance in a fight against Ichimaru Gin – he was Aizen's right-hand man for a reason. She had seen his _bankai _before; if he wanted to use it here, she'd only wind up skewered.

Still, she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of taking her down without a fight.

"The feeling is mutual, Ichimaru," she hissed as the grip on her sword tightened. "The feeling of wanting to stab you is—"

"_Hiyori!_"

_Dammit._

She didn't take her eyes off of Gin to look over he shoulder at Shinji's sudden appearance into the courtyard – if she'd done that, the fox-faced man before her would have certainly attacked again. Instead, she tried to ignore Shinji as best she could. She knew that he was gonna try and break up their fight.

She would let him, too; but she wasn't about to surrender before she had to.

"Aww, Captain Hirako," Gin said from the side of his mouth, "Hiyori an' me was just gonna have a little fun."

"Hiyori, drop your sword," Shinji barked from the entryway to the courtyard as he tried his best to ignore Ichimaru's taunt. His voice was calm as it drifted across the cobbles and stones – his entire demeanor was relaxed, despite the anger he felt at seeing Hiyori out here fighting with Gin.

He knew she'd gone through his mail – the little dumbass had left Lisa's opened letter on his desk when she'd left his room. Which should have worked well for her since she'd been caught empty-handed, but she'd somehow gotten herself into a fight with Ichimaru Gin. He didn't care who said what between the two of them, he just wanted to get Hiyori the hell out of this courtyard before it got too ugly. He could yell at her once she was safely back in her room. She couldn't really do anything to stop Gin if he decided to kill her right now – she simply wasn't fast enough.

Shinji knew that if he stepped in, he could likely kill Gin if he had to. He also knew that if he killed Gin, Aizen would kill him.

_The rest of the gang, too_, he guessed.

"You heard Captain Hirako, didn'cha?" Gin asked, lifting his sword up. "Ya should probably do what he tells you to do."

"He don't tell me _nothin',_" Hiyori growled lifting her hand up to her forehead.

"_Hiyori."_

"Ya sure about that?" Gin asked, his left eye opening just enough that his blue iris shined out at her.

"Tear him to pieces!" Hiyori roared as she charged forward, pulling her mask over her face. "_Kubikiri Orochi!"_

"_Dammit, Hiyori!" _

The right half of the small Vizard's mask instantly shattered as Gin's blade blasted through her shoulder, slamming her back through one of the far walls. Shinji growled and bolted forward, his own blade aimed at the silver-haired man in front of him.

Kira Izuru appeared out of nowhere, his own _shikai _clashing into Shinji's violently.

_Dammit, _Shinji thought angrily. _Dammit!_ _I should have _known_ he'd be here too!_

Shinji pressed forward against him, being careful not to slip-up and allow Kira's _Wabisuke_ to break away from his own edge. He knew the young man's abilities – he didn't want to run the risk of clashing blades again, but as long as he maintained this initial contact he would be able to keep his blade lifted once he found a way around him.

His eyes swept over briefly to where _Shinsou _had blasted Hiyori through the wall. She was all the way inside of the building. He couldn't see her at all; he could only see the long blade that had impaled her sticking through the night air. Hiyori suddenly growled in anguish as Ichimaru retraced the blade, quickly enough that it had yanked her out into the courtyard again. She was bleeding profusely from her right shoulder, blood form the wound splashed in speckles on her cheek where the mask had shattered.

She pushed herself up from the ground, slowly but confidently, and snarled at Ichimaru Gin. She calmly reached her hand up and repaired her broken mask. He snickered and lifted up his blade.

_Hiyori you idiot, _he thought. _Why did you get back up?_

He knew he couldn't get through to her, now. Her pride had gotten the best of her and she'd allowed Gin to goad her into fighting him. Nothing he could say to her would make her back down. He hated that he was going to have to appeal to Gin, but he wasn't about to let his own pride get Hiyori killed.

"_Ichimaru!_" Shinji called out, as he glared past Kira. "Let her go, Ichimaru!"

"Everythin' alright over there, Izuru?" Gin asked, ignoring Shinji as he smiled at Hiyori.

"Yes, Captain Ichimaru," Kira replied coolly, looking right into Shinji's eyes.

Hiyori was suddenly slung backwards again, hitting the wall with enough force to crack the cement. She yelped and dropped her sword as her mask shattered completely, a glob of blood spilling out for her mouth.

"_Shit," _Shinji hissed as he leapt back from Kira. He needed to get to Hiyori as fast as possible without allowing Kira to disable his sword. That meant that he was gonna need to move fast, but he could already feel that _Sakanade_ had doubled in weight. He wouldn't be able to outrun Kira like that.

He shot his hand up to his forehead, the ghastly mask forming in his fingertips. Kira stepped back and copied the movement, the ivory fragments accreting in his hand from his _reiatsu. _Shinji didn't know how much stronger the kid was after Gin and Aizen had put him through the Hollowfication process, but he was about to find out. With Kira's desire to protect Gin, it looked like Shinji didn't have a choice.

Their masks hadn't even finished forming when a _Senkai _gate appeared in the center of the courtyard, its wooden slats opening slowly as Aizen stepped out of the portal. Shinji immediately lost all concentration on his fight with Kira and his attempt to rescue Hiyori. Aizen had completely claimed his attention, the expression on the former lieutenant's face pinning Hirako Shinji to the spot he stood.

Aizen Sousuke looked furious.

Shinji wasn't so much frightened of Aizen as he was cautious of him. The whole reason they were this close to him now was because Shinji was the only member of the group that wasn't afraid of Aizen. He could talk to his old lieutenant without feeling dread. But Shinji had never seen Aizen look as enraged as he did right now. His eyes were hardened, the normally controlling brown orbs had turned dark and blank. His hands were balled into loose fists at his waist. His mouth was creased into a thin line, his normal smugness abolished.

He marched into the courtyard, his pace brisk, his walk purposeful. He seemed to ignore the violent scene he'd walked into, his eyes only quickly glancing at Gin as he walked past him. Even Ichimaru Gin's smile had dropped as he watched his companion stalk forward.

"Come, Gin," Aizen said, his voice cold. "There's been a change in plans."

"Yes, Captain Aizen," Gin said sternly, sliding _Shinsou _from Hiyori's other shoulder. She gasped and slumped down to the ground in a pile.

Kira stepped away from Shinji and turned to follow Gin out of the courtyard, his mask already dissipated, his zanpakuto already sealed and at his hip. Aizen paused for a second when he saw Hiyori and turned his attention back to Shinji, his brown eyes deadly. He held his silence for a moment as Shinji glared back at him. He eventually turned around and slid his hands into his pockets as he walked past Hiyori.

"Hirako, clean this mess up."

Shinji watched them walk away before he sighed and slid his sword back into its scabbard. He walked over to Hiyori and gently scooped her up into his arms.

"Come on, ya dumbass," he softly said as he grabbed her resealed zanpakuto from the ground and began carrying her away. "Let's go wake Hacchi up."

* * *

_**author's note**_

_School's been major busy, but I managed to get this out as quickly as I could._

_Shout out to **Owl-sama **for reading So and Anonymous and leaving me a bunch of inspiring reviews._

_Also **jazzpha.**_

_See ya soon,_

_jta!~_

_**RFID Slaverider - Traditionalists **_


	11. Trillion Zillion Centipedes

_**Trillion Zillion Centipedes**_

"Oh for fuck's sake," Hisagi grumbled almost immediately after he lifted the hood of the car. The entire engine was covered in black oil. He looked around at the steaming machinery for a few moments before pulling his head back out and slamming the hood down. The last pothole they'd hit must have severed the oil line. Or something. He didn't really know all that much about the way a car's engine worked, but he understood enough to know that whatever had happened here was something he couldn't fix. And even if he _did _know how, he certainly didn't have enough oil on hand to replace what was now spilling onto the sandy road below.

He looked up from the broken vehicle and into the old white car, shaking his head through the cracked windshield at Lilynette. She groaned and rolled her eyes before kicking her door open and stepping out of the car.

"Can't you fix it?" she snapped.

"No, I can't," he snarled back, walking around to the trunk and opening it. He grabbed a backpack full of supplies, mentally taking note of what was inside of it – water and a little bit of food, extra clothes for both of them, and a map. He hefted the bag onto his shoulder and let the trunk fall closed. He then yanked open the back door and grabbed _Kazeshini _from its place on the back seat. He slammed the door, slipped his zanpakuto into his belt, and walked around to the front of the car where Lilynette was standing with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Come on," he barked at her. "We're already late enough. Osh is just forty kilometers. If we hurry, we might still make it."

"Whatever," she growled, following him.

They started east toward the Kyrgyzstan border, the sun falling closer and closer to the horizon. They were supposed to be rendezvousing with Yumichika and Soi Fon in an hour, but he doubted they were going to make it now. He had no idea if they knew to wait for them, but he doubted it. He'd initially wanted to make it to the train station in Osh yesterday, to give themselves plenty of time before their companions arrived, but the road conditions had been horrible since they'd left Iraq a few days earlier. If they had been any worse, he was fairly certain that they wouldn't have been able to drive on them at all. The past few days had been a challenge to his sanity, as problem after problem arose with their transportation. They'd now had four cars completely break down on them, and this most recent one had been problematic since they'd found it abandoned on the side of the road two days ago.

He was constantly wrestling with the urge to use _shunpo – _he knew that if they just flash-stepped they would definitely be able to make it in time, but they'd also run the risk of drawing unwanted attention to themselves. They had to take the long way, no matter how bad things got or how behind schedule they became.

"Come on," he repeated as he noticed that Lilynette was walking slowly. She looked up at him and rolled her eyes, her pace quickening only a little.

Ever since Tia Harribel had contacted the two of them a week ago, Lilynette's demeanor had spiraled steadily downward – at first she was acting a little sullen, but now she was all but antagonistic toward him. He was smart enough to know that whatever was bothering her was because of that other Espada, but he still hated how Lilynette was taking it out on him.

Still, he might as well try and remain amicable, even if she certainly wasn't.

"Look," he said over his shoulder, "I'm sorry. The past couple days have been a nightmare, okay? We really need to get to Osh in time, and right now it looks like we probably aren't gonna. So, I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Okay." Was all she said.

She looked away, facing the rocky desert beyond them.

He'd lived with Lilynette as his lover for almost two years now. He knew her almost as well as he knew himself, so he could feel that something big was bothering her. But no matter how much he'd tried to ask her what it was, she would refuse to talk about it. Eventually she started becoming visibly irritated whenever he asked, so he'd stopped and tried instead to just cheer her up. That hadn't worked, even from the get go. Whatever was troubling her, he was going to have to ride out and hope that he'd still be standing by her side by the end of it.

He sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets and continued to walk down the lonely desert highway.

* * *

Soi Fon opened her eyes slowly, lifting her head up from the cushions of the train cabin's couch. She looked around for a moment, dazed.

_Must have fallen asleep, _she thought as she remembered where she was. She pushed herself up into a sitting position. They had left Osh that afternoon and, after quickly grabbing some food, Soi Fon had tucked herself away in the cabin she and Neliel shared to meditate. The change of plans had hit her harder than she would ever let on – even though she'd only briefly known of a chance to see Grimmjow again, she'd put almost all of her hope into it becoming true. She'd been all but crushed when she'd had to change their course to follow Yumichika and Lisa to Mongolia.

So she'd tried to talk to _Suzumebachi _in an attempt to calm herself. The spirit had given her enormous comfort when she was younger, when Yoruichi had abandoned her to follow Urahara Kisuke over a hundred years ago, but the zanpakuto had refused to show himself to her now. She didn't know if it was because he disagreed with her grief or if he didn't care, but she'd fallen asleep during her attempt to channel him.

Neliel was also asleep on the couch across the cabin, her limbs sprawled out carelessly, her right leg dangling off the edge. It made sense that they would be tired – the two of them had been traveling almost non-stop for the past month. While it wasn't hard labor, it was mentally draining to be constantly thinking about routes and arrival times and destinations. The two of them had been exhausted since France; now Soi was just hoping that they would make it to Mongolia in one piece.

She rubbed the cloth-wrapped stump of her left arm, gritting her teeth as it ached in the cold. While they were approaching the warmth of late spring, the mountainous regions of Kyrgyzstan still clung to the cold of winter, making her injured bone throb. She gripped the stub tightly, the pain of her grip briefly negating the pain of the cold. She groaned and let go, a pang of remorse coursing through her chest has she dropped her right hand through the empty air where her left hand should have been.

Soi Fon sighed and leaned her head against the glass window, her silver irises darting left and right as the sunset-drenched landscape rushed past her. The sky outside the train was steadily darkening into night, the orange of the fading sun highlighting only a small stretch of sky above the mountains that surrounded the valley through which their train was traveling. Above that was an ever-deepening violet, ascending quickly into the black of night.

Floating just above the fading light was the brilliant yellow dot of Venus. The planet seemed to shine brighter than she'd ever seen it. She had always wondered how the planets that orbited the sun in the real world fit into the grand scheme of the Spirit King. Seireitei did not have and planets that wandered through the nighttime sky like Earth did. All that her home's nighttime sky had was a moon and a milky band of stars.

She sometimes wondered if Earth truly was the only planet that mattered to the King. If so, why bother to make the rest of the enormous universe? She didn't pretend to understand the mind of the Spirit King, but if that were the case – that the entirety of everything was made for only the one planet's souls – it seemed incredibly inefficient.

There was a light knock on the door a moment before it slid open, revealing Ayasegawa Yumichika's face. He poked his head in cautiously, his violet eyes sweeping through the room from Neliel to Soi Fon. When he saw that she was awake, he grinned at her.

"Captain Soi Fon," he said, "would you care to join Lisa and me for a drink?" He held out a bottle of vodka and his smile widened.

"Where did you get that?" She asked. They hadn't bought it at the train station in Osh.

"Lisa beat some guy in the lounge car in chess. You want some?"

"No."

"You think Neliel would?"

Soi looked at her lightly snoring companion for a moment before shaking her head. She hadn't ever seen Neliel drink any alcohol before, so she wasn't about to try and wake her up to ask.

"Alright," Yumichika said, ducking back out of the doorway. "You know where I'm at if you change your mind."

"Okay."

Soi Fon watched him close the door and leaned back against the cool glass of the window. She sighed deeply, her mind struggling with the contradiction that she was beginning to feel incredibly lonely without Grimmjow, but she was still refusing the companionship of others. Her eyes looked up at Venus once more, the goddess of love silently twinkling above her.

"This is stupid," she grumbled, getting up. She grabbed her sword and headed for the door of her cabin. She had no desire to sit and mope about being alone when there were people so close trying to be her friend.

She slid the door open and almost ran into an old woman carrying a large bag of trinkets through the train's hallway.

"You buy?" the woman asked, Soi Fon's _gigai _translating the odd blend of Kyrgyz and Russian as best it could.

"No," Soi said, lifting her _wakizashi_ so the woman could see it. The old woman looked at it for a second before quickly shuffling down the car.

Experience had taught Soi Fon that a wordless threat like that was the best way to keep merchants from pestering her. She hated doing it – in the aftermath of the Hollow plague, people were increasingly desperate to make money and feed their families – but it was the only way to quickly get the point across. Soi had once needed to rescue Neliel from being cornered in a train station, the Arrancar attempting all too politely to decline increasingly aggressive offers from a crowd of merchants.

Soi reached forward and grabbed the handle of the door across from her own and slid open the door to the cabin that Lisa and Yumichika were sharing. They both looked at her up from their bottle of vodka, Yumichika smiling widely.

"I changed my mind about that drink," Soi Fon said, stepping into the room.

* * *

"No he _didn't._" Soi Fon sputtered out in laughter.

"You obviously didn't know Shunsui like I did," Lisa barked back, reaching down and picking up her cup from the floor.

Yumichika sat next to Soi Fon on one of the two couches, Lisa on the other, a glass of vodka and orange juice in each of their hands. Neliel was sitting on the floor with her back against the door, her legs pulled up to her chest and her arms cradling them as she laughed.

"Okay," Yumichika said, "so how'd that go for them?"

"Well," Lisa continued, putting her cup back down. "Shunsui looked at me and said," she tilted her chin up and lowered her voice in imitation of Kyouraku, "'it's just a little weed, Lisa-chan! How bad could it be for him?' So I'm just shaking my head and watching as he convinces Juushiro to start smoking because it would help his lungs feel better."

"I knew Kyouraku was a piece of work," Soi said, sipping her own cup, "but that's ridiculous."

"You're telling me," Lisa quipped, drinking again.

"So I'm guessing that it didn't help?" Neliel asked innocently from the floor, causing another round of laughter to erupt from the group. Sometimes her playful naiveté could get on Yumichika's nerves, but more often than not he found it completely adorable. Tonight was definitely one of the latter.

"Not even in the slightest," Lisa said, recovering from her laughter. "He started coughing so badly that I started running to go get Retsu. Shunsui kept saying, 'no Lisa-chan! Let him ride it out, Lisa chan! Retsu will yell at me, Lisa-chan!' I thought he was going to die."

"What happened?" Nel asked again, with a giggle, her olive eyes wide in anticipation.

"Well, Shunsui wouldn't let me go because he thought he was going to get yelled at by Retsu. Fortunately, she sensed that Juushiro was in trouble and she came to calm his episode down. And Shunsui was definitely right – he got his ass handed to him."

Yumichika laughed. "Fuck me, that is funny."

"All part of being Shunsui's lieutenant," Lisa said.

"Oh, now I see why you left the second division," Soi Fon shot sardonically, taking a sip of her drink. "It was to get away from all the real work and hang out with a handsome buffoon."

"Shut up bitch," Lisa said with a smirk. "It's not like I didn't have few days where I wanted to stomp his face in."

Soi Fon laughed and tilted her cup all the way back, killing the rest of the drink. She stood up on slightly wobbly feet and looked at the group.

"Well, that's about all I can handle for tonight," she said, turning around to open the door. "Thanks for the drinks."

She closed the door behind her and Neliel stood up, grabbing Soi Fon's forgotten zanpakuto from the couch, and smiled in that warm way that only she could.

"Thank you very much for a fun evening. We should do this more often."

She left and slid the door closed behind her. Yumichika reached for the bottle of vodka and began to pour himself another drink. They were out of orange juice by now, but he could do without. He assumed it was the reason that Soi left. Although, she looked a little drunk. Not too bad, but more so than he'd ever seen. He highly doubted she was about to start taking down straight vodka.

He, on the other hand, was a seasoned drinker and was more than prepared to keep drinking. He poured the clear liquid into the coffee mug he'd found on a park bench earlier that week. The stop they'd made in Tajikistan. Or was it Afghanistan? Either way, it had a picture of an American hundred-dollar bill on it so he'd grabbed it because it made him laugh. Maybe he would drink everything out of this cup now.

"Lisa?" he asked, handing the bottle across the car to her.

"Yeah, I guess so," she said, shooting him a borderline seductive look.

The two of them had been kind-of-sort-of flirting almost non-stop since they'd left the Ukraine. He couldn't really remember what had happened between the two of them to cause this change in emotions, but he wasn't complaining. A week ago he hated her, but still lusted for her. Now it looked like whatever absurd fantasies he'd been harboring might be able to come true.

_If I play it cool, that is, _he thought. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. He knew better than to assume that Yadomaru Lisa would be a girl that he could easily woo into bed after a week for cute flirtations. If he really wanted to pursue things with her, he knew he would have to play it as cool as possible.

"Can I get one of those?" Lisa asked as he pushed a cigarette into his mouth. Yumichika leaned forward, offering the top of the open pack to her. "It's your last one," she said cautiously.

"Go ahead," he said, lifting the pack closer to her face.

"Thanks."

She placed the cigarette between her lips and he leaned forward, lighting it before he lit his own. He watched her pull at it with her lips and lean back into the couch, opening the window slightly and turning her head to blow the smoke out. Yumichika cupped his hand at the new wind and lit his own smoke, cracking his window as he exhaled.

"Look at the moon," Lisa said softly, taking another drag. "It's almost full."

"Yeah," Yumichika said, drinking from his cup as he looked at the waxing gibbous moon that hung almost at the top of the sky. "Look how it's turned the entire valley blue."

"We should turn out the lights," she said, looking at him in excitement. "That way we can see it better."

"That sounds like the best idea I've heard all day."

Lisa handed him her cigarette and stood up to flip off the lights to the room they'd shared for the past week. With a soft click, the dull yellow bulb above them extinguished and the near-full moon filled the cabin with its soft blue glow. Lisa returned and took the cigarette from Yumichika, but she didn't sit back across the room from him. She sat down right next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"See?" she asked, taking one last drag from her smoke before dropping into her cup with a hiss, "it's already more beautiful in here."

"Yeah," Yumichika said, leaning his head over to look down into her eyes, flicking his own cigarette out the window. "It really is."

She pushed her face up to his, her lips touching his with hunger as her hands pulled at the buttons of his shirt. He returned the motion, grabbing at the bottom of her tee and pulling it up. She lifted her arms and allowed him to pull it over her head and quickly brought herself back down to him, her naked chest touching his. She raked her fingernails over his shoulders as she leaned down and bit his collarbone.

"Lisa," Yumichka moaned as she rubbed her hands over his chest, "I—"

She cut him off with another kiss, the vodka strong on her breath, and pulled away to look at him.

"Just shut up," she said, kissing him again.

* * *

Ulquiorra Cifer stepped out of his room and walked toward the stairwell at the end of the hallway. He started up the first of many steps and slid his hands into his pockets. Aizen had just arrived in Hueco Mundo and was waiting at the topmost room for the remaining commanders of his army. Aizen had avoided _Las Noches_ for almost a year now – it was odd that he had suddenly decided to give them orders directly. For him to step down from his throne and personally issue a command must mean that he was attempting something big.

Ichimaru Gin had met with the top trio less than a week ago, proclaiming that Aizen intended for them to attack the King's army once more. While the plan seemed foolish to Ulquiorra, it no doubt seemed like a brilliant one to Aizen. Ulquiorra had long ago calculated that Aizen was only using his Arrancar in an attempt to weaken the Guard before he himself took to the fore, but they had been unable to do any perceptible damage to the King's forces. When he'd heard that they were once more being sent against the unstoppable army, he'd assumed that Aizen was finally throwing his Espada away.

He could see why Aizen would send them out in one last attack like this. If the Arrancar couldn't do any worthwhile damage in an ordinary battle, then the battle would simply need to become unordinary. If Aizen ordered his Espada to die and take an opponent down with them, the Zero Squad would find themselves having to switch up their tactics at the very last second. This would allow for mistakes on their parts, further allowing for more casualties on the opposing side. Then when Aizen did step out to fight, his chances for victory would be greatly increased. It seemed as though this was Aizen's only chance at destroying the King.

For a commander who did not care about the lives of his soldiers, this ruthless plan was perfect. As long as he stood at the top by the end of the war, Aizen wouldn't care if he stood there alone. To him, the Espada were now nothing more than a handful of high-powered suicide bombers.

This meant that Ulquiorra would be sacrificing himself for Aizen's victory. At one point in his life, he would have gladly died for Aizen. Now he was repulsed by the idea. Everything he'd done from the moment he'd gained consciousness as an _Adjuchas _would amount to nothing more than Aizen's ambitions. Everything he'd ever known would be gone. All of his existence would be extinguished in a moment, his whole identity gone so that another could ascend. Everything would be gone into nothingness.

He'd never truly feared death. As a spirit himself, he knew that being killed did not mean the end. There could even be other unknown worlds beyond the ones he'd already existed in. He would live on, but he almost certainly would have no memory of his past self. The persona that was Ulquiorra Cifer would be gone the moment he died.

These thoughts had truly never bothered him until now. He'd faced his own demise many times without fear. He'd felt himself at the dark edge of death before, the coldness of the beyond creeping into his extremities, but he'd never regretted the possibility that he was sacrificing himself on the battlefield.

Now he was filled with emotions about the possibility that he would die. Part of it was certainly regret – he had grown to genuinely enjoy his life in the past decade and he did not like the prospect of it ending.

He was also afraid of the possible nothingness that his death could bring. He feared that he could even be at the end of the reincarnation process, and this life was the last that he could live in. He knew it was a stupid thought – if he was dead and truly gone, he wouldn't be alive to be upset about it. He would be nothingness, with no way to complain.

But Ulquiorra's fear and regret were vastly eclipsed by his anger and resentment towards Aizen. This man who thought that the universe was his for the taking planned on using his corpse as another stepping-stone towards control. He couldn't seem to control the very primitive anger that boiled in his gut at the thought of Aizen succeeding because of him. Not after everything Ulquiorra had done to try and stop him.

"Oi, Ulquiorra," Grimmjow's voice echoed up from below him. Ulquiorra stopped and waited as the sound of his companion's footsteps began to climb closer. He was worried about how this meeting was going to affect Grimmjow. Ulquiorra knew better than anyone that Grimmjow's temper had long ago settled; the blue-haired berserker had been replaced by a calmer, smarter, and somehow more terrifying Arrancar.

But he wondered what reaction the news of this kamikaze attack was going to elicit from Grimmjow. Ulquiorra couldn't seem to shake the feeling that the official announcement might create an uncontainable reaction. While he was almost certain his friend was less afraid at the prospect of death than he was, Ulquiorra knew how much hope Grimmjow had that he and Soi Fon would be reunited in the near future. The thought of dying, when he was so close to his goal, might send Grimmjow into a bit of a rage in front of Aizen. Such an outburst would be absolutely disastrous.

"What's with you bein' so late?" Grimmjow asked as he caught up to Ulquiorra. "Ain't like you."

Ulquiorra studied Grimmjow's face for a moment before continuing his ascent. For some reason, the blue-haired Arrancar seemed to be in an almost jovial mood. He sighed and turned his head toward Grimmjow.

"Has anyone told you know what this meeting is about?" He asked, being sure to watch his words carefully. With Aizen in _Las Noches_, Ulquiorra didn't dare risk saying anything that could alert him to their plans. Even if he and Grimmjow and Harribel were about to die, he didn't need to cause the ruin of the Shinigami.

"Yeah, I heard Charlotte and Barragan talkin' about it the other day. Aizen's sendin' us up against the Zero Squad again, right?"

"You realize that he's most likely assuming that we'll lose this battle, correct?"

"Yeah, I figured."

"That's acceptable to you?"

"Yeah," Grimmjow said with a smirk. "I'll lose the fight, no problem. Doesn't mean I have to let myself get killed, right?"

Ulquiorra let out a surprised chuckle.

"What's funny about that?" Grimmjow asked, shooting him a confused look. "You think we can't survive?"

"No, nothing like that," Ulquiorra said as they reached the top floor. "It's just that you saying that made you sound remarkably like Kurosaki Ichigo."

Grimmjow snorted as they entered the meeting room. "Whatever."

Harribel flicked her teal eyes over at them as they entered. She could tolerate Grimmjow's sluggishness – he had never been one for punctuality anyway – but she was irritated that Ulquiorra had been late. Not because he hadn't been on time, but because he was tardy alongside Grimmjow. While their close companionship was hardly a secret, she hated when they showcased it so openly. It was already nerve-wracking enough with Aizen and Ichimaru in _Las Noches_ – she didn't need her two companions arousing suspicions right away.

She, along with Starrk and Barragan, had been here since before Aizen and Ichimaru had arrived. The three of them wanted to welcome their leader back in a respectful way, even though she and Barragan detested him and Starrk didn't really care about formality enough to arrive early on his own.

"Ulquiorra, Grimmjow," Aizen said calmly as they sat down. "Welcome."

If they were troubled by seeing Aizen for the first time in a year, they didn't show it. Harribel began to feel hope that this meeting would go off without incident. She had briefly been worried about what Grimmjow's reactions to this conference might be, but he seemed to be in control of himself for now. She hoped that he would be able to stay that way.

"Finally, my Espada have gathered once more," Aizen began. "It's been a while since we were last together, hasn't it?"

No one replied. Harribel tried to refrain from rolling her eyes. His smugness was almost suffocating now – she found it impossible to remember a time when she longed for his praise, to wish that voice would talk down at her as if she was nothing more than his pet. She closed her eyelids and listened. If he was about to send them all to their deaths, he could at least be quick about it – there was no need for him to drag the order out.

"I'm sure that you are all wondering why I decided to come to speak with you in person," Aizen continued. "There has been a change in my plans. I originally intended to send you against the King's army once more, but something else has come up that requires my attention first."

Harribel left her eyes closed, but she sharply sucked in a breath and held it. She didn't like the way this was going. Aizen was changing things on them at the last minute again. It was hard enough trying to stay a step ahead of him while _knowing_ what his plans were. It would become impossible if the changes he made were drastic.

"Soul Society is beginning to form a resistance," Aizen Sousuke said calmly. "I want to destroy them."

Harribel's eyes flew open, but she didn't dare to move beyond that. She couldn't let anyone see that she was shocked at the announcement. She wanted desperately to look over at Grimmjow and Ulquiorra, to see if her two companions had made any indication that they were upset at this news. Instead, she trained her eyes on Aizen. He obviously had not made this declaration in order to get a rise from them – he was looking down at the cup of tea he held in his hands. Ichimaru Gin was standing calmly and silently behind Aizen, his thin eyes focusing on nothing.

"Most of the surviving Shinigami are now living in Mongolia," he continued. "But a small handful of them have yet to rendezvous with the main group."

_Shit, this is bad. _Harribel thought. Everything that they had tried so desperately to keep a secret from all of Hueco Mundo was now out in the open, just like that. Years of planning had just been crushed under Aizen Sousuke's heel.

Harribel tried her best not to react.

"And that's my cue to take over," Szayel-Aporro said, leaning forward over the table with a wicked smirk. Aizen smiled and nodded at him. "Aizen has ordered me to exterminate whichever Shinigami are on the move."

"How ya plannin' on doin' that?" Grimmjow asked, gruffly. "Even if it's just a small handful of Shinigami, everyone who survived was either a captain or lieutenant. I can't see you surviving for too fuckin' long against more than one."

Harribel sighed in relief. Now that she was able to look at Grimmjow, she could see that he was calm and composed, despite hearing about Soi Fon being targeted. She had no way to tell if he had initially reacted to the news, but if he had, he'd recovered well. His gruffness toward Szayel-Aporro was nothing out of the ordinary. At least _something_ wasn't completely disastrous.

"Oh, I won't be going alone," Szayel-Aporro said with a snicker. "Aizen has ordered that I give my Shinigami reanimation project a test run with this mission."

"I still don't think that's enough," Starrk said. "I agree with Grimmjow that these Shinigami captains can't be taken lightly. Your two reanimated bodies won't cut it."

"Well I _would_ have a third," Szayel-Aporro said, sneering at Grimmjow, "but someone melted her."

"What about Lilynette?" Charlotte quipped at Starrk. "Can't you call her in for reinforcements? She is the _Séptima, _after all."

Harribel slid her eyes over to Starrk. He looked dully at Charlotte Cuuhlhourne for a moment before averting his gaze.

"I've been unable to get in touch with her," he said, detaching himself from the conversation.

"I changed my mind," Grimmjow said flippantly at Szayel-Aporro, filling in Starrk's silence. "I think Pinky will be fine. Let's just send him in with his two corpses."

"First you want me to stay, now you want me to go?" Szayel-Aporro barked. "Make up your mind, Grimmjow."

"I have," Grimmjow said with a chuckle. "If I can't get away with killin' you, I might as well let the Shinigami do it for me."

"Wonderweiss."

Barragan's voice rumbled out over the room, immediately killing the conversation. Everyone turned to look at the gruff old _Segunda, _his arms folded over his belly as he glared out at them from his good eye. He knew that he didn't need to say anything other than the child's name to sell his point.

"Thank you, Barragan," Aizen said, finally speaking again and regaining control over his army. "Wonderweiss and Fuura will accompany Szayel-Aporro to the real world. Are there any other suggestions to make this elimination any quicker?"

"What about the Shinigami in Mongolia?" Ulquiorra asked, his eyes closed. "It seems like you're ignoring them."

Harribel saw Grimmjow glance at Ulquiorra quickly, as though he'd just been betrayed by his friend. The look left his face quickly, but she couldn't blame him. She was almost certain that she had made the same face under her collar. As horrifying as it was for Ulquiorra to ask the question, she could understand why he had: he was trying to make himself look as though he was still loyal to Aizen. She leaned forward and followed suit.

"The Shinigami in Mongolia must have an advantage," she said, purposefully sounding as though Ulquiorra's question had irritated her. "They have been settled there for a while, and have likely created an efficient plan for when they are attacked. The Shinigami traveling are far more vulnerable."

"Brilliant as always, Harribel," Aizen said, standing. "Szayel-Aporro, I will meet with you shortly about the details. You are all dismissed."

He stayed standing at the head of the table as the Espada turned to leave the room. Harribel's jaw clenched as she wondered how much longer Aizen and Ichimaru would be staying in Las Noches – the sooner they left, the sooner she could get together with Grimmjow and Ulquiorra to figure out just what the hell they were going to do to aid Neliel and Soi Fon.

"Harribel, Ulquiorra, Grimmjow," Aizen said, each of their names coming out of his mouth slowly.

Harribel turned to look at him, her blood frozen beneath her skin. He was smiling.

"Would the three of you please stay behind and talk with me for just a little longer?"

* * *

**_author's note_**

_i'm back! i'm sorry for the big delay in updating, but i decided to take the summer off from a lot of things, this story being one of them. but you don't have to worry about me leaving you for a while again, especially after a cliffhanger like this one._

_huge thanks to all the people that read through the trilogy over the summer. i appreciated all the reviews! (and would love some more.)_

_thanks go to **jazzpha **for betaing as always._

_until next time, see ya!_

**_trillion zillion centipedes - tiamat_**


	12. Hammering Down the Nails

_**Hammering Down the Nails**_

_ "Harribel, Grimmjow, Ulquiorra. Would the three of you please stay behind and talk with me for just a little longer?"_

Ichimaru Gin stifled a chuckle as the three Espada turned, their faces barely hiding their dread. They sat obediently, putting themselves down in the same seats they had occupied only a few seconds ago. He found it amusing that they took their previous positions without hesitation; even if the three of them were trying to stab Aizen in the back, they still feared him. They still didn't want to draw any attention to themselves.

Even though they were cornered.

Gin's fist held fast on the handle of _Shinsou, _the _wakizashi _hidden up his sleeve. He had a hunch that Aizen was going to call Harribel and her boys out during this meeting. He'd guessed right. He wanted to be prepared if they tried to attack before Aizen finished dealing with them, so he'd hidden his zanpakuto in case he needed to strike quickly. The three Espada were dangerously talented with their own blades, but experience had shown him that even the best of swordsmen had trouble defending against an attack that came out of nowhere.

Aizen sat in silence, his chin resting on his palm. Gin was standing behind him, but he didn't need to see his fellow Shinigami's face to know the expression he was wearing. He knew it was a calm and deliberate smile. It was because of Aizen that Gin had decided to make his own grin permanent. As a child, when he had seen Aizen Sousuke for the first time, Gin had found himself both terrified and reassured at the man's smile. He'd quickly realized that a continuous grin could make people assume that he was a friendly man, even when they should have known better.

And when they _did _know better, it made them fear him even more.

Gin stretched his cold smile a little further as Aizen maintained his silence and the Espada oh-so-subtly squirmed in their seats. He was more than happy to let Aizen drag this out for as long as possible. He'd seen his captain silently suffocate numerous minds throughout his tenure, and it was by far his favorite of Aizen's psych-tricks.

And after dealing with these three crawling under his feet for the past two years, Gin was more than ready to watch them squirm in their last few minutes.

Grimmjow suddenly bolted up, his chair clattering across the floor behind him.

"What the fuck," he growled, pulling his zanpakuto out and pointing it across the table at the two of them. Gin tightened his grip on _Shinsou, _but Aizen didn't even move at the outburst. Gin knew it would be better to wait until Aizen at least looked uncomfortable before he retaliated. He relaxed slightly.

"Is everything alright, Grimmjow?" Aizen asked calmly.

"Fuck no," Grimmjow bellowed. "Nothin' is fuckin' alright! You've been watchin' the three of us for fuck knows how long now and I'm gettin' fuckin' sick of it."

Aizen sat silently, his brown eyes slowly watching Grimmjow growling. Gin's eyes flicked around the room in their slits, swiftly darting at each Espada. He couldn't assume that Grimmjow would be the one to attack – if the other two were as clever as he supposed, either of them could leap forward and attack while Grimmjow menaced Aizen.

Aizen maintained his stillness. He was watching Grimmjow's every move with mild amusement playing on his face. The blue-haired Arrancar snarled silently as the man who he was threatening all but ignored him.

"_Fine," _Grimmjow hissed again, sliding _Pantera _back into its sheath. He held out his arms, leaving his chest open for attack. His snarl had twisted into a grimace, displaying how uncomfortable this vulnerability was making him. The other two watched this outburst silently – Ulquiorra with indifference, Harribel looking unimpressed.

Gin's smile fell.

"You don't fuckin' trust us, huh?" Grimmjow continued, arms still outstretched. "Is that it? You wanna sit there and give us the silent treatment 'til one of us fuckin' cracks, is that it? Well I tell you what, Aizen – why don't you take your head out of your ass and take a fuckin' look around for once? We've been your puppets for two fuckin' years, doin' every fuckin' bullshit assignment you've handed out. Why don't you just send one of us on this little assassination, huh? You don't fuckin' trust _me_? I'll kill the Shinigami. I'll fuckin' kill _Soi Fon_. Is that what you want? _Huh_? Send me out there right fuckin' now or go the fuck back to Soul Society."

Gin frowned as Grimmjow tore another seat out from under the table and sat down, his arms defiantly folded over his chest. The entire atmosphere of the room had changed. The simple fact that Aizen hadn't killed Grimmjow already had given the traitorous trio a boost of confidence. They had stopped squirming.

"I appreciate your offer, Grimmjow," Aizen said smoothly, standing. "But I would prefer to see how Szayel-Aporro fares in his mission. The three of you may go now."

They sat silently for a moment, only Grimmjow's eyes showing shock, before they stood and made for the exit. The door opened and Gin could see Starrk outside, his eyes watching his three companions pass him by before sliding over at him as the door closed. Aizen turned and walked down an adjacent hallway toward his own chambers. Gin followed, his mouth curved into a deep frown.

_That was a bluff, _he thought to himself as he walked behind his captain. _Grimmjow _had_ to be bluffing. Why did Aizen just let them go? He had them under his heel. He doesn't need them at all. He could have crushed them._

"You are displeased with me," Aizen said as they entered his chambers, strolling over toward the window. He turned his head, half of his face glowing in the moonlight. "Are you not, Gin?"

Gin studied his face for a moment, before donning his grin once more.

"What would make ya say that, Captain Aizen?"

"You're thinking I should have taken Grimmjow up on that ludicrous offer of his?"

"I ain't sayin' that at all."

"Then you're thinking I should have killed the three of them," he said, turning to face Gin completely. It was not a question. "You're thinking that I should be worried about them."

Gin stayed silent and kept as much distance from Aizen as he could. His smile fell again. He tightened his grip on _Shinsou, _still hidden in his sleeve.

"I thought so," Aizen said, turning back to the desert outside his window. "I can't expect you to understand me, Gin. But it's understandable that someone of your level would fear the possibility of a mutiny," he looked over his shoulder, brown iris cold and calm. "But I do not."

Gin bit back a reply, his molars grinding against each other in his mouth. Aizen's gaze remained on him.

"You're scary as ever, Captain Aizen," Gin said lightly. He let _Shinsou _drop out of his sleeve and he caught it and held it in his hand so that Aizen could see it. He turned and walked out the door, grinning at Aizen over his shoulder. "Scary as ever."

* * *

Lilynette shivered as she sat down on a bench, the dilapidated planks wet on the backs of her legs. The thunderstorms had finally moved on after pummeling Osh all night, but the air still held a drizzly mist. It coldly clung to any skin that was exposed. She folded her arms over her body and leaned back and watched Shuuhei argue with the man behind the dingy ticket window. He was too far away for her to hear what he was saying, but his arms kept flipping up at the elbows to punctuate every few words. They had missed the train that Neliel was on yesterday and Shuuhei was trying to figure out how to catch up with them. From the look of things, it wasn't going to be easy.

Lilynette sighed and turned her head away, looking east through the fog that trailed the retreating storms.

She felt bad for Shuuhei, because of how she was treating him. She knew that she was acting like a complete brat and he didn't deserve that. It wasn't even his fault. In fact, he was doing everything he could to cheer her up and stay on her good side, even though he had absolutely no idea what was bothering her so much. It almost broke her heart to watch him try.

When Harribel had come and told her to change course and rendezvous with Neliel, it had ruined everything that Lilynette had worked for since she'd aligned herself with the _Terceira _behind Starrk's back. She knew that, for some odd reason, Starrk felt like he owed Aizen a tremendous debt. She doubted that her other half would betray him without a good reason and Lilynette had yet to find one that would work. Starrk was kind of unmovable like that.

Lilynette had _wanted_ to rendezvous with Harribel in New Delhi and _then _try to convince Starrk to join them in attacking Aizen. She figured that if he was ever going to betray that man, she would have to make it out to be an _us-or-them_ scenario. She could at least pose an argument to him and hope that he would think about it. She knew that the odds were still slim that her plan would work, but it was better than meeting him on the battlefield and hoping he would turn traitor in a heartbeat. She knew him better than that. She could toss that wish right in the trash where it belonged.

Unfortunately, it now looked like she was going to have to rely completely on that absurd hope.

And to add to her anxiety about having to confront Starrk in the most inopportune way possible, Shuuhei was multiplying her guilt with every passing second. He reminded her too much of Starrk. Hell, the reason she fell in love with him in the first place was because he reminded her so much of Starrk. They were both cool-headed, intelligent, handsome; brooding in just the right ways and funny only behind closed doors.

She'd once read that little girls fall in love with their daddies. Well, Starrk was the closest thing she'd ever had to a daddy and now Shuuhei was the closest thing she has to Starrk. Watching him made her remember and it was really starting to tear her up inside.

Shuuhei stalked away from the ticket window and passed without looking at her. She sighed and stood, following him off the concrete platform and into the parking lot. They hadn't really spoken to each other in the past few days, and she could tell that he was especially pissed at her today. She was trying to keep her head down and stay quiet, but it seemed that every time she opened her mouth they got into an argument.

As she followed him through the misty morning, she realized why Shuuhei had left the platform. He was looking inside the window of each car in the lot while checking door handles to see if they were unlocked.

"What are you doing?" she asked, knowing the answer already and hating the way the question sounded in her mouth.

"The next train east isn't for another week," he replied steadily, shooting a quick glare over his shoulder before moving to the next car. "So I'm gonna steal us a car. If you have any better ideas, I'd like to hear one."

She held her tongue, despite the violently strong urge to scream at him. He was being nasty, but she knew that he was doing it on purpose. That sort of attitude was not like him at all. Deep down, she understood the he was acting this way in retaliation to the way she'd been treating him. The last thing she wanted to do now was to throw fuel on his fire by starting another fight. The best way to do that was to just keep her mouth shut.

She followed him between two rows of cars, her small shoes stepping around the snails that were sliding around on the wet asphalt. He stopped suddenly and opened the driver-side door of a big white van. He hopped in and flipped the visor down, catching the keys as the fell from their perch. He stuck his head out and smirked slightly, unable to contain his pride.

"Come on," he said. "I don't wanna get shot for stealing _this_ piece of junk."

Despite herself, she smiled and climbed into the van with him.

* * *

Yumichika jolted awake, his violet eyes flying open as the train clipped a kink in the track. He sat up quickly, a thin sheet sliding off his chest and down to his waist, the movement causing his head to start throbbing. He groaned and lowered himself back down, squeezing his eyes shut against the harsh light that poured into his cabin from the window. The groaning of the train wasn't helping. Going to bed without any water after drinking an entire bottle of vodka had not been the best of ideas.

_Last night_.

Yumichika sat back up, noticing that Lisa was not in their cabin at all, much less under the blanket with him.

_Did that really happen? _he thought to himself quickly, before dismissing the question as nonsense. He could feel the claw marks that she had left running down his back. His core muscles were sore from being overworked for the first time in months. The entire cabin still smelled like sex. It definitely wasn't a dream.

_Then where is she?_

He frowned slightly at the irony of waking up alone. He'd left half a handful girls in the middle of the night while he was living in New York, so he found it painfully funny that Lisa did it to him. At least he knew that he could _avoid _the girls he'd ditched – he and Lisa had to share a cabin for at least another five days, so she would have some trouble trying to ditch him completely.

_It's not like I did anything to change things between us, _he thought as he yawned. _Not anything _bad, _at least._

He stood up, kicking his legs out from the thin bench that he'd shared with Lisa up until some point in the night. He was completely naked – yet another clue that he'd actually had sex the night before. He usually wore _something _while he was sleeping. He stood and stretched, his back popping in segmented crackles up to his neck.

He leaned down and plucked a pair of denims from his backpack, pulling them up around his waist. He bent back over and grabbed his hundred-dollar bill mug from the floor, noticing that it had spilled over in the night. He reached back into his backpack and grabbed a pink tee-shirt. He pulled it on and grabbed _Ruriiro Kujaku _from against the wall and slid his cabin door open.

Neliel's and Soi Fon's cabin was right across from his, and the door was open a crack. He knocked lightly and slid it open further, sticking his head in. He saw Neliel sitting on the floor, playing peek-a-boo with a girl that couldn't have been any older than three. The Arrancar looked up at him and smiled brightly.

"Good morning, Yumichika," she said perkily, before blowing a raspberry at the little girl. The child giggled, her wispy black pigtails bobbing up and down as she giggled.

"Hey," he said, his voice sounding gravelly as he used it for the first time of the day. "Where is everyone?" he asked, not wanting to look as though he only cared about finding Lisa.

"Soi Fon went down to the dining car just a minute ago," Neliel said, not taking her eyes of the kid in front of her.

"Okay," Yumichika said. "Who's the kid?"

"I dunno," Neliel replied, holding her hands up and covering the toddler's eyes.

Yumichika opened his mouth but shut it before he said anything else. He was about to ask why she was playing with some stranger's child, but he decided against it. He'd learned a while ago that asking Neliel Tu Oderschvank why she did what she did was a waste of time. He was certain that, half of the time, she didn't even know herself. Her heart was always in the best of places, but he had a sneaking suspicion that her head was not. Or never could be.

He quickly ducked back into his own cabin, rooting through his backpack once more for the bottle of mouthwash he carried with him. He took a sip, chucked it back into the bag, and closed the door. He walked toward the dining cart, swishing the minty liquid in his mouth as he went. He would go grab something to eat. Maybe Soi Fon had seen where Lisa had disappeared to.

He reached the end of the cabin car and knocked on the lavatory door, sliding it open when there was no reply. He stepped in and spit the green mouthwash into the steel basin before turning the water on as high as it would go. He rinsed out his mug and then cupped his hands under the running spigot and splashed his face, the cold water knocking the rest of his hangover away. He straightened up, looked in the mirror, wrinkled his nose at the pungent smell of the room, and stepped back out into the main hall.

"You buy?" an old woman asked, leaping at him with a set of bead necklaces as soon as he left the bathroom. He ignored her and slid open the door that separated the cabin car and the dining car. She had been pestering him about those damned beads for the past two days.

After a noisy step through the accordion connecting the two cars, Yumichika was in the dining car, the smell of meat wafting past his face. Soi Fon was walking up to the counter and Lisa was sitting in one of the numerous booths, reading one of her smutty magazines. The three of them were the only passengers in the car.

Yumichika sat down across from Lisa.

"Mornin'," he said, his voice coming out a little more cheery than he'd intended.

"Mm," Lisa replied after a moment, not taking her eyes away from the magazine in her hands.

"You eat yet?"

A pause.

"Nope."

"Well, I'm starving. You want anything?"

Another pause.

"Nope."

Yumichika watched her read, waiting for some sort of response, some sort of indication that she knew he was trying to talk to her. He could understand her not wanting to act flirty with Soi Fon around, but she seemed to be genuinely disinterested in him being there. He turned his head and looked out the window, his eyes watching the stepped-landscape roll by as they rode through another huge valley. There were dark thunderheads rolling in above them, the massive columns getting trapped on the mountains that encircled the train. A clap of thunder rumbled in from the distance. Lisa turned a page.

Yumichika stood up and looked at her, but she gave no indication of noticing his departure. He scoffed and walked up to where Soi Fon was leaning on the counter.

"What's up her ass?" he asked, propping his elbow on the old wood.

"Lisa?" Soi Fon asked, bowing her head slightly as the man behind the counter filled her cup from a pot of tea. "I thought you two were getting along?"

"Yeah, we were," Yumichika said, holding out his own mug. The man smiled at him with a broken mouth. "But she's acting weird today."

Soi Fon turned and looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly before her mouth twisted up in a smirk. She chuckled and started to walk back to where Lisa was sitting.

"Oh, Yumichika," she said, snickering.

"'Oh, Yumichika,' what?" he barked as the man began to pour tea into his mug.

Then the train exploded and everything went dark.

* * *

_Nel Tu skipped through the endless sand dunes of Hueco Mundo, humming to herself._

_Tesla had told her that she needed to find some new shelter. He had gone off to train earlier and couldn't watch her as closely as he wanted to. There was a group of Adjuchas that had been sniffing around their old cavern – she was too vulnerable without him, so she needed to have a back-up hiding place if she was ever attacked when he wasn't around to protect her._

_Despite her small size, Nel had a large amount of _reiatsu. _Or that's what Tesla told her. She didn't really understand him when he talked about stuff like that. Sometimes he would talk about some people in his past as if she knew who he was talking about. She would always tell him that he was wrong and he would always get real quiet after doing it, but she never got upset about it. _

_Sometimes Tesla just got her mixed up with someone else is all. She thought it was funny._

_She skipped behind a large rock outcropping, gasping in surprise when she saw a large cave entrance in the wall. She crouched down and peered into the darkness, trying to see if there was anything inside. Tesla always told her that most Hollow hid in caves like this, so she had to be extra careful whenever she got close to one. He also encouraged her to try and _detect _any Hollow that were hidden, but she didn't know how to do that. She would always just tell him that she would try her best when he told her to do things like that._

_She couldn't sense _reiatsu _or whatever, but her eyes were pretty good. She could see at least a hundred meters into the cave, and it looked like there was nothing inside it. She stood back up and chewed on her lip a little. She knew that Tesla would probably want her to wait for him before she went inside. But she wanted to do this on her own. Tesla was always there, always helping her with everything. For once she wanted to act like a grown-up and do something on her own._

_The air around her suddenly felt very heavy, as if the night had draped itself around her shoulders like a great coat. Her knees wobbled and her breath caught in her lungs. She knew for a moment that she was going to fall, that she would be forced to the ground by this heavy sky, but she somehow stayed on her feet. _

_Was this what _reiatsu _felt like? Where was it coming from? _Who _was it coming from?_

_She struggled to turn around, but removing her feet from where they had been planted caused her to tumble down onto her side. She looked up, her cheek covered in sand as she took in the silhouette of the strange Hollow above her._

"_Neliel," the Arrancar said, her voice deep and calm. "Have you really fallen this far? That you can't even _stand _while simply being close to me?"_

"_Nel doesn't know you," Nel choked out, through tears, trying to take her eyes off of the blonde demon that towered over her. "Nel doesn't…"_

"_Yes you do," the woman replied, kneeling down, reaching a gloved hand out and touching Nel's forehead. "You know me very well. And I need you, Neliel Tu Oderschvank."_

_Another surge of _reiatsu _tore through her body, drilling into her skull from this strange woman's fingertips. Nel screamed and fell backwards, her back slamming against the cliff-side with enough force to cause the cave's mouth to collapse. And then she was stretching and growing and her clothes were tearing and pulling at her as her long green hair tumbled down around her shoulders. __She kneeled over, cradling herself in her own arms as she struggled for breath. _

_She tentatively looked up at the blonde Espada, who was now walking away from her. The pain was gone. She stood up as tall as she could make herself._

"_Harribel," Neliel said to the retreating woman._

"_I need you," Harribel repeated without turning around. "Stay hidden until I give you further notice."_

_With a buzz, Tia Harribel, the woman who had taken her place as the _Terceira _Espada, vanished. _

"_Nel!" Telsa's voice rang out from the other side of the rock outcropping. He sounded worried. "Nel!"_

_He rounded the corner, his eye bulging in shock when he saw that Nel Tu had become Neliel Tu Oderschvank once more. She looked at him in melancholy and nostalgia, a million memories rushing into her mind at the sight of him. She remembered everything._

"_Hello, Tesla," she said, her mouth curving up into a warm smile. "It's nice to see you again."_

Neliel struggled to wake up. Her head was throbbing. Something wet was dripping onto her face, dragging her up to the surface of consciousness. She tried to open her eyes; her vision was blurry in her left and she couldn't see out of her right. She lifted her hand up to inspect it and quickly pulled it away. Her fingertips were covered in blood. She had a large gash running across her forehead, the blood dribbling over her face, blinding her. She struggled to push herself up to her feet, but a shot of pain blasted through her back, crippling her, forcing her to rise only to her knees. She balled up, her elbows resting in piles of glass as she waited for the pain to subside.

After what felt like an hour, she tried standing once more, the pain in her back resurfacing and rocketing up to her head as she reached her feet. She knew the pain was the _gigai_ she was wearing, the shell emulating the pain her spiritual body should actually feel. But, real or not, the pain was making her head spin. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, blindly reaching her hand out for something to hold as she tried to steady her wobbling body. She opened her eyes again, wiping the blood out of her right before pressing hard against the gash with her fingertips. Her vision was still slightly blurred, but she could see now.

The train was on its side.

The bottoms of her white tennis shoes were resting on the wall of the cabin. The door to the room was missing. It, along with a generous portion of the wall, had been ripped away, leaving a jagged hole in what was now her floor. The glass window was shattered above her and rain was falling into the cabin, tinkling noisily on the glass that covered the floor. Neliel looked around the small cabin, noticing that her backpack and zanpakuto were missing. With a groan she crouched down and lowered herself through what was left of the doorframe, her feet landing in the rest of the window that had piled on top of Yumichika's door.

"Hello?" she called out, the sound of her voice sounding small and lonely as it echoed through the ruined car. She was answered only by the sound of the strengthening rain as it pummeled the tin walls above her. She could see her zanpakuto's sheath sticking out from beneath a pile of rubble a few feet in front of her. She had no idea where her backpack had ended up. She walked forward, a dull pain beginning to develop in her left hip. She moved her right hand around to it, hoping that putting pressure on it would lessen the pain.

She stepped on something soft and heard a dull crack. After living through numerous battles as an Espada, it was a sound that she knew far too well: the crushing of bones. She leapt back quickly as her stomach knotted within her belly. She tried to look away, but her eyes betrayed her and she looked down at the bloody hand she had crushed under her foot.

It was the little girl from her cabin, her eyes open and blank, her body still and lifeless under the steel pillars that had crushed it.

"Oh," Neliel whimpered as she fell to her knees, her bloodied hand rubbing the girl's cold cheek. "Oh no. Oh no, oh no," she repeated, as though it would somehow revive the toddler. She could feel her eyes growing impossibly hot, like they were going to boil out of their sockets and run down her face in place of the tears that already were. She touched her clean hand to her lips, as if the small action could lessen the anguish that she was feeling in her chest.

And then another sound tore through the air, a deadly noise that she was more than familiar with.

A _cero._

She stood up, her fingertips sliding over the girl's eyelids as she closed them forever. Her eyebrows knotted tightly as she strode forward and snatched _Gamuza _up from the ground. She quickly turned and rushed back to her cabin. The pain in her body was suddenly gone as she leapt up and out of the open window, the cold rain drenching her as she ascended into the slate-grey sky.

She saw Yumichika and Lisa fighting what looked like a pair of Shinigami off to her left. Soi Fon was fighting the unmistakable Szayel-Aporro Granz to her right, the pink-haired Arrancar clashing swords with her friend as a _garganta _closed behind him. She growled as she saw him, the sound deep and feral and foreign within her throat. She charged forward, whipping her zanpakuto out of its sheath.

Another _garganta _tore open the cloudy sky behind her. She stopped her charge and spun around, bringing her _katana _up just in time to block a vicious strike from Wonderweiss Margera's _Extinguir. _The idiot Arrancar's powerful attack forced her to skid backwards through the sky, her heels digging into the air in an attempt to avoid losing sight of her opponent. Wonderweiss grinned foolishly, his tongue hanging out like a puppy's as the _garganta _behind him tore and stretched to an impossibly large gash and his favorite monster lurched out of the darkness beyond. Neliel glanced over her shoulder, quickly, and saw that her companions were all busy with their own opponents. She would have to take on Wonderweiss alone.

"_Shit_," she hissed as Fuura leaned forward and vomited out a stream of _Gillian._

* * *

**_author's note_**

_See? I told you the next one wasn't gpnna be too far away. I really wanted to get this chap out tonight. I'm going out of town this weekend (DC for the Stewart/Colbert Rally fuckyear!) and then I'm taking November off for NaNoWriMo. But the next couple of chapters are fights, so I should able to get them out pretty quickly after that._

_anyhoo, thanks to **jazz **as always for being a sounding board and brainstorming buddy. (BTW if you guys like KOTOR in the Star Wars universe, he's writing a pretty dope fic. go check it out.)_

**_Reviews _**_are aaaaaaaaaalways loved and cherished!_

_off to restore sanity!_

**_jta!~_**

**_Hammering Down the Nails - Kaada_**


	13. Boléro and Bacchanale

**_Boléro_**_** and Bacchanale**_

_ Interesting, _Szayel-Aporro Granz thought as he plucked another brown mushroom from the damp soil at his feet. He lifted it up and investigated it in the grey light that filtered down through the canopy of the alpine forest. _This is the sixteenth mushroom species in just this square kilometer. _

He dropped the small fungus and stood up, his eyes looking up through the evergreens and at the darkening sky. He wondered how the approaching rain would affect the local fauna. In just the half hour he'd been in the forest, he had already seen an incredible amount of biodiversity; it would be foolish of him to assume that other evolutionary niches would fail to present themselves once the rain started to fall. He really hoped that he would get the chance to see what they were.

This was his first time in the real world, and the scientific potential of the dimension astounded him. The varied number of climates and topographical features alone would be worth his attention, but the amount of life that seemed to wriggle out from every nook and cranny on the planet almost made him giddy. He wondered why he had never considered coming here before, and idly questioned why his old captor, Kurotsuchi Mayuri, had never bothered to spend more time in this place. They were both experts in biology, after all.

As loose a term as _biology _was. The prefix _bio_ indicated that it was the study of life, and most of Szayel-Aporro's proficiency was in dissecting Hollow and other beings of the spirit world. Still, he imagined that the term could apply to what he did – _necrology _didn't sit well with him, since he was studying how the creatures moved and "lived", not how they died.

_Necrobiology, perhaps, _he though with a chuckle as he exited the forest, the first of the raindrops beginning to dimple the surface of the stream that ran along the edge of the woods. He glanced over his shoulder, briefly feeling a scientific urge to go back and tinker in the forest. He shrugged it off and walked over the water to the other side of the brook and up onto the rusty train tracks that ran through the valley. He stood calmly between the two tracks, his feet on the dilapidated wood that held them together. He heard the whistle of the locomotive coming from around the bend of his vision.

_After we eradicate the Shinigami, I'll have to ask Aizen for some research time over here. _The train appeared from behind one of the many mountains to his left. He slowly pulled his zanpakuto out from its grey scabbard as the train barreled towards him, the volume of the whistle growing intense as it got closer. It was soon upon him, the massive engine car only a few meters away from crushing him.

_I'm running out of things to study in Hueco Mundo, after all, _he thought as he stepped out of the way at the last second, sticking his katana out and cleaving the locomotive's lead car in half.

The train quickly derailed as its engine exploded, the cars twisting and tumbling over one another in a loud and squealing line. Szayel-Aporro leapt up into the sky with a snicker, his heavy cape fluttering at his back, his amber eyes darting back and forth as he looked proudly at every crumpling meter of the train below him. He tittered as the third and fourth cars caught fire, the flames roaring upwards despite the strengthening rain. The last car had detached itself from the train entirely and was now rolling down the side of a steep gully.

He knew that the Shinigami in the train would certainly be able to survive the wreck, no matter which demolished car they happened to occupy. His eyes quickly scanned over the entire train, looking for any sign of movement that could be seen as a threat. He could already see several dead bodies that had been ejected from the cars' windows, but they were simple humans; he swiftly memorized their positions and scanned over them as he waited for the specific insects he was looking for to come crawling out of their hiding places.

He didn't have to wait long – three figures emerged from the middle car, one of two that had flipped onto its roof. He watched in amusement as they stumbled out through shattered windows, their limbs sprawled out on the twisted tracks as they looked at one another in silent confusion. Szayel-Aporro chuckled and charged a _cero _in his free hand_; _if they were too imbecilic to figure out what had happened on their own, he would gladly help them solve their problem.

The violet beam roared down at them, incinerating the car from which the Shinigami trio had flopped out. His eyes scanned the pillar of smoke that the blast had created – he knew better than to assume they'd been hit by such a slow and far-ranging attack. These were lieutenants and captains, after all.

They quickly emerged from the smoke, the three of them ascending upwards at him with their zanpakuto drawn. He cackled as he recognized each one of their faces – Yadomaru Lisa, Ayasegawa Yumichika, and Soi Fon. The sight of Grimmjow's Shinigami pet alone would have brought him indefatigable pleasure; he'd been itching to hurt Grimmjow for the past two years. Getting the opportunity to kill his little girlfriend was akin to a gift from Aizen himself.

But the other two were multiplying his pleasure exponentially. He recognized both of them from the memory-retrieval experiments he had done on the very two reanimated Shinigami he had brought with him. This entire mission had worked out far, far better than he could have ever hoped. He touched a finger to the sky behind him, smirking wickedly as the two undead Shinigami stopped his three approaching assailants in their tracks.

Takahashi Hitomi stepped out on his left, followed by Akon on his right.

"_Hitomi," _Yumichika gasped as he looked at the undead woman. Lisa said nothing, much to Szayel-Aporro's chagrin. Still, his smirk widened as she glared at the male Shinigami.

"I'm afraid she can't hear you," he said to Ayasegawa. "When I brought her back to life, I modified her eardrums so that only the vibrations of my voice would cause any effect. Your attempt was cute, though."

His smirk widened as Yumichika growled. He looked over at Lisa, still disappointed that she showed little reaction at seeing her former student's dead body in front of her. If just seeing Akon wasn't enough to jar her confidence, him attacking her certainly would.

"Slice them to ribbons, please," he said to the zombies behind him, "Hitomi, Akon."

The duo quickly flashed forward, their blades clashing with those of their former allies.

Szayel-Aporro Granz turned his attention to Soi Fon.

"And then there's you," he said, sweeping a hand through his soaked hair. "Captain Soi Fon."

"I could have sworn you'd have been dissected by now," she jeered.

"I was," he replied with a wink, "but as you can see, today is resurrection day."

"Ah," she quipped, leveling her own sword, "that must make you _so_ happy."

"Yes, but I'm mostly looking forward…" he said as he vanished in a buzz of _sonído_, reappearing with his blade clashing into hers. "…to telling Grimmjow about how I killed his whore."

Soi Fon roared and slashed forward at him, her _wakizashi _raking against his, causing the Arrancar to go skipping backwards along the sky. She glared at him, her eyebrows knotted tightly.

"_Sting him to death_," she hissed, her breath a steaming spear in the freezing rain. "_Suzumebachi."_

* * *

_Yumichika fell backwards against his mattress, his bare chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Hitomi was still on top of him, he was still inside of her, she was still trembling. She wriggled her hips and leaned forward, biting his lower lip as he inhaled in pleasure, her light auburn hair hanging down over him like a willow in sunset. She giggled and squirmed again._

_ "Shaddup," he said, gripping her waist and shoving her off him lightly. "I can damn get you back and you know it."_

_ "Yeah but you won't," she purred as she snuggled up next to him, her head resting on his still strongly-pumping heart._

_ "I know."_

_ He breathed through his nose, the scent of her hair filling his head with memories. Sometimes she would smell like the streets of Manhattan, and sometimes she could smell like her own dingy apartment, and sometimes she would just smell like cheap shampoo. But sometimes, very rarely, she smelled like the barracks of the Eleventh Division._

_ Tonight she smelled like home._

_ Sometimes he really liked Hitomi. She was the perfect blend of a delicate woman and a Shinigami meathead. He could actually stand to have her in his apartment for a few days without being driven insane. Whenever she was starting to act like too much of a live-in girlfriend, she would switch to her Eleventh squad persona. And when he started to get irritated by that, she would switch seamlessly back to being a lady. She could read him like a book. _

_It was like living with Matsumoto and Ikkaku at the same time, a concept as successful as it was bizarre. Occasionally this would make him painfully homesick, but he knew better than to give in to those feelings. While Hitomi's presence would constantly remind him of everything he'd lost in Soul Society, wishing for it all to magically come back was absurd. Still, if he was going to try and replace _Seireitei_ with a woman, it might as well be one that reminded him of everything he loved about the place._

_He might even be starting to love _her_._

_She swept her head up from his chest and kissed him on the chin. He went to return the kiss, but she pushed herself up to her feet, her lithe body glowing in the yellow city lights that poured in from the window. She turned and walked toward the door of his room._

"_Where ya going?" he asked._

"_To get the clothes that you left on the kitchen floor."_

_Their lovemaking had started while he'd been cooking an hour earlier. She'd come over from her apartment for dinner and had almost immediately leapt on him. He'd managed to stay dressed until they'd reached his room, but he'd made sure to remove her clothes before they'd moved locations. He'd also burnt the chicken._

_He watched her leave the room, his violet eyes dutifully following her. She was nearly as tall as he was, and most of her height was in her legs. Sometimes he would stop whatever he was doing just to watch her walk away from him. Yet another reason he really loved having her around._

_He grabbed up his jeans and slipped them on and walked out towards the kitchen. To his disappointment, Hitomi was already half-dressed by the time he got there. She grabbed her shirt from the linoleum countertop and slipped it over her head. He walked past her and opened the refrigerator, grabbing his half-full flask of whiskey from the night before. He closed it and leaned against the white door and took a swig. He looked at her and winked. She rolled her eyes and smiled._

"_You know," Hitomi began as she walked around the corner that separated the kitchen and living room, "if it weren't for me, you'd drink yourself to death."_

"_How do you figure?" he said, half-guiltily placing the flask on the countertop. He grabbed up the sauté pan and dumped the burnt chicken into the trash. He dropped the pan into the sink._

"_Because the only times you don't is when I fuss at you," she called from the other room. "I bet you put it back in the fridge when I said something, didn't you?"_

"_No," he said as he scrubbed the pan in the sink. It wasn't a lie._

"_Close enough," she said as she walked back into the kitchen, her zanpakuto strapped to her waist._

"_Oh," Yumichika let slip, the disappointment in his voice apparent._

"_What?"_

"_Nothin'."_

"_No, I know that noise. What's wrong?"_

"_I dunno," he said, turning back to the pan. "I was just hoping to order some food and maybe stay in for the night."_

"_Lieutenant Ayasegawa," she quipped. "That sounds frighteningly like a date. But we both know how much you hate dates."_

"_It's not a date," he said with playful indignation. "But you made me burn the chicken, so I figured the least you could do is eat some Chinese with me."_

"_How about tomorrow night?"_

"_What's wrong with tonight?"_

"_You might have _your_ rent paid," she said, puffing out her chest, "but Heisenberg's still wanting me to kill some more Hollow before he gives me any money."_

"_Well, if it's rent you're worried about, just move in with me."_

"_You don't mean that."_

_He shrugged. He didn't._

"_Look," she said, leaning forward and kissing him. "I'll make it up to you when I get back in the morning. I'll cook breakfast."_

"_Alright," he said with a smirk as he watched her walk to the door. "Be careful. You know how they get in this weather."_

"_I will," Hitomi said with a wink._

_It was the last time he saw her alive._

"_Jesus!_" Yumichika yelped as he dodged another swing from Hitomi's _nodachi, _the two-handed strike quickly carrying the blade past his face. "Hitomi, stop!"

Yumichika had heard what the Espada had said about her being unable to hear him, but he couldn't help but call out to her. It was an involuntary reaction to seeing her moving again, even though one look at her body was enough to tell him she wasn't _alive_. Her skin was pale and grey and her eyes were glazed over with a yellow film. There was a gaping wound in her chest, right below her neck, which had long since stopped bleeding. The ragged flesh was brown at the edges and outright black deeper in.

Yet the thing that was irking him the most was how she completely silent she was. While he dodged and parried her strikes, she didn't utter a single noise. Not a grunt of frustration, or a gasp of indignation. Utter silence, her face reflecting her muteness with its lack of expression. Though it disturbed him, this helped solidify that he was not fighting Hitomi; Hitomi was a noisemaker, always peppering combat with her groans and hisses and howls.

Yet, despite this, he couldn't bring himself to attack her. Seeing her face again, as pale and slack as it was, reminded him of everything that they had shared together. Of how she had been there for him, how they'd been together for each other. Of how she'd fought by his side for months in the darkened streets of Brooklyn. The tender moments beneath sheets and under stars.

He slid back once more, his zanpakuto clashing against hers as she sliced at his chest. He knew that she was strong – just one hit from her double-handed strike could leave him at her mercy. Not to mention that she was swinging without hesitation, as though every strike was intended to cleave him in half. He couldn't afford to get hit.

She spun, her _nodachi _swinging widely at his neck as she twirled her body. He held his own sword up and blocked, but her strike carried far more power than he'd assumed it would. He was sent flying across the sky, flipping backwards once to slow himself down and regain his footing. She quickly appeared above him, fiercely swinging her blade down at him.

He stepped to the side, choosing to dodge instead of block. That strike could have sent him plummeting to the ground, which was the last thing he wanted. He knew he needed to stay in the air to best avoid her attacks. She swung again and he ducked, but this time he struck back. He didn't intend to attack her, but she had left her left side wide open. His decades of deadly experience took over before he could think to stop himself.

His hand moved on its own and he slid the edge of his zanpakuto across her ribcage.

She didn't make a sound as the blade sliced into her cold flesh. There was no blood to accompany the cloth that he sliced away from her shirt. Her face didn't change, her brows didn't tighten, her lips didn't quiver. She simply looked at him blankly as she fell with the rain into the forest below, yellow ribbons of fabric slowly trailing after her.

Yumichika sighed and sank down, his violet eyes darting left and right as he looked for her body. He didn't want to assume that one strike would be enough to kill her, but he had no idea how durable her reanimated body was. He landed in the forest, the hard rain above abating slightly as he entered the cover of the trees. The inside of the wood was far darker than the skies above it had been – he squinted his eyes as he looked for any movement.

"Pummel him," Hitomi's voice rang out from behind him, sounding exactly as it had the last time he'd heard it, "_Kairiki!"_

Yumichika dodged instinctively, rolling forward onto the mossy forest floor as the trees around him shattered into splinters.

* * *

"_Lisa-chaaaan," Shunsui called in faux-agony. "Come back to bed."_

_ "Don't talk to me like that," she snapped as she cinched her skirt around her waist. "And don't be so loud. The whole damn squadron will hear you."_

_ "Lisa-chan is ashamed of me," he pouted, turning over and curling up in a ball, pulling the sheets over his head._

_ "You would be too," she said, sitting down on the edge of her cot as she slipped shoes on her feet._

_ "Where are you off to?" he said, popping his head up with all the sudden excitement of a puppy._

_ "It's the first of the month, you know where," Lisa quipped as she stood. She walked over to her desk and grabbed a thin book from its wooden surface. _

_ "Ah, right. Reading to the kiddies," Shunsui said as he stretched out, grabbing his hat and slipping it over his face. "What's on the menu for tonight?"_

_ "'The Picture of Dorian Gray'," she said, looking in a mirror and adjusting her glasses and sneering at a small bite-mark on her neck._

_ "That sounds like a real-people book," he said, sitting back up._

_ "It is a real-people book."_

_ "I thought that boy didn't do normal?"_

_ Lisa rolled her eyes. "You really don't listen to me, do you Shunsui? He got transferred to Kisuke's division two months ago."_

_ "Oh yeah," he said. "Who's the newbie?"_

_ "Ise Nanao," Lisa said as she walked to the door. "Little girl with glasses. You'd love her."_

_ "How little?"_

_ "Like 'wait-a-few-decades-you-old-bastard' little," Lisa said as she opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air. _

_ "Bye bye, Lisa-chan," Shunsui called from the bed, his lips puckered._

_ "Ugh. Don't let anyone see you when you leave."_

_ She slammed the door and hurried away from the room she left her captain in, enjoying the fresh air of Seireitei's spring. She had no idea why she put up with Kyouraku Shunsui's buffoonery the way she did. Partly because, underneath the foolish façade, he was irresistibly charming. He was also terrific in bed; that didn't hurt him one bit, and it certainly kept her coming back._

_ But it was mostly because she loved him. For some ridiculous reason, she really loved him._

_ He was the one that had found her on the streets of Rukongai almost thirty years ago. She had been working as a child-servant in a sake house, spending days on her knees as she cleaned up spilled drinks and vomit. He alone had recognized her potential as a Shinigami, giving her the idea to audition for the Gotei Academy. He didn't remember this event at all, and jokingly called it an "immaculate inception"._

_ After graduation, her skills had quickly landed her the fourth-seat position in the Onmitsukidou, under Captain Shihouin Yoruichi. But that wasn't where she wanted to be; she'd always longed to serve under Kyouraku Shunsui. When the offer came for her to become his lieutenant, after only five short years in the Second Division, she'd practically begged Yoruichi to allow her to go. _

_It was an embarrassing act, and any other captain would have found it distasteful. But Yoruichi was a one-of-a-kind woman, and had found loads of amusement in Lisa's begging. Whether it was because Lisa's true motives were known or simply because she'd prostrated herself so awkwardly before her captain, Yoruichi barked out a laugh and had granted her permission to leave the squadron._

_Lisa knew that the rest of the Onmitsukidou considered her a deserter, but she didn't care. She'd wanted to be Shunsui's lieutenant for as long as she'd been a Shinigami. Her mission was about to be complete, and she would be damned if glares from Soi Fon were going to stop her._

_Once she'd entered the division, becoming close with Kyouraku Shunsui was a walk in the proverbial park. Being that she was his lieutenant, Lisa would have been spending all her time around him anyway, but she still felt as though she'd put some extra work into it. Sharing his bed wasn't in the job description. At least she hoped it wasn't._

_She knew that Shunsui didn't feel the same way about her. He had been with many women before her, but he was her first and only. She'd grown up idolizing him, so when she'd first touched his lips with hers, she wasn't even remotely surprised when she immediately fell in love. She knew he cared about her, but she was fairly certain that his attraction to her was only physical._

_She told herself that this was okay._

_Maybe that's why she treated him the way she did. She always barked insults and orders at him, and he was more than willing to play along, but she felt like she was melting on the inside. If she even allowed a single crack to appear on her rock-hard shell, she knew that the dam would burst and she would be defenseless. And when the day came that he desired to replace her, she would need to have her shields up. Otherwise she might not survive it._

_She rounded a corner and almost bumped into a small boy, about waist-high, dressed in the white coat of the Twelfth Division. _

"_Akon," she said, stepping back from the boy who, up until two months ago, would sit on her lap as she read him treatises on causality and electromagnetism. "What are you doing here?"_

_He held up a small flower that she immediately recognized as being from Shunsui's garden. _

"_Captain needed one of these for an experiment," he said calmly, his face slack. "He was going to go out of Seireitei to get one, but I told him I could get him one here."_

"_And he was fine with you stealing it from your former captain?" she asked, her tone maternal and stern._

"_Logically," he said back, smiling ever so slightly. "He was going to steal his own from the Kyouraku manor anyway."_

_Lisa chuckled lightly. It hadn't taken Kisuke long to corrupt the poor kid._

"_That's a small book," he said, his eyes glancing down at her hand. "What is it?"_

"'_The Picture of Dorian Gray'," she responded, holding it out to him._

"_Sounds boring," he said, wrinkling his nose._

"_Some people prefer fiction, you know."_

"_Not me."_

"_Well I guess you fit right in over at your new division, huh?" she quipped, hoping she didn't come off sounding bitter. She wasn't happy when he'd left her for Kisuke's new brain trust. After reading to Akon for nearly five years, he had almost become a little brother to her._

"_How do you like it over there?"she asked, recovering._

"_It's not bad," he replied. "But Hiyori is kind of a brat. She keeps yelling at Captain and threatening to leave. I wish she would, that way Kurotsuchi would become the new Lieutenant."_

"_Be careful what you wish for, Akon," she said with a small snort. "And be nice to Hiyori. Being a Lieutenant is a pain, especially for captains like yours." Or mine. _

"_I will," he said, turning. "Aren't you going to be late reading to Nanao?"_

"_Aren't you going to be late getting back to your division?" she shot back. He raised an eyebrow at the question, as if it were a stupid thing to say. Which it was – Kisuke could care less about getting things done on time._

_ "Well, good luck with your experiments," she said, tousling his lanky black hair. "And tell that captain of yours that he can just ask next time he needs to steal our flowers."_

_ "I will," Akon replied as he walked away._

_ Lisa watched him leave, slightly saddened in the way that he was out of her life. But she knew that she should be happy for him; he was obviously flourishing in the Research and Development Bureau. He had a much brighter future there than he did under Shunsui's tutelage. _

_Or under hers._

* * *

Lisa stood across the stream from Akon, her eyes watching his still form carefully. She had no idea how he'd progressed since she'd been banished. He was just a boy when she'd disappeared – she knew that he had been the twelfth division's lieutenant when Soul Society had fallen to Aizen and the Espada, but she knew she couldn't use that as a gauge for what his power might be. He could have simply moved into that position because of his scientific prowess in the Bureau.

His lifeless eyes followed her as she shifted her zanpakuto's weight, causing a chill to run through her body. It was like the blank pupils were watching her and looking past her at the same time. The only reason she knew he'd even noticed her was because his pupils followed her movements. He reminded her of those painted portraits whose eyes followed people as they walked through the room.

But she knew that this was not an optical illusion – his eyes following her was a very deliberate action.

She looked at him in silent pity. It tore at her heart that this was the first time she had seen him in well over a century. He looked awful, but she could tell that it wasn't solely because of his being brought back from the dead. His thin black hair framed his lanky face, parted over the trio of horns he had implanted within his forehead. She grinded her molars as she thought of Kurotsuchi Mayuri, and how that body modification had undoubtedly been because of his influence.

"Annihilate," Akon said, his voice breaking the silence as it leaked out from behind his blue lips, "_Hanbusshitsu."_

Just as his appearance had been a mystery to her, so was the nature of his zanpakuto. She watched in silent calculation as his blade changed color from silver to black. No, that wasn't it. The blade hadn't changed colors – it was no longer reflecting light from the dark grey skies above. It was as if the _katana _had begun to absorb light itself, the line between what she could see and nothingness creating the shape of a sword in his hand.

"_Antimatter_, huh?" she murmured as she reached a hand up to her forehead, pulling her diamond-shaped mask out immediately.

She didn't like going all out at the start of a fight, but her years as a Vizard had shifted her way of thinking. She still withheld her _shikai _for as long as possible – if only to make the fight more interesting – but she would pull her mask out almost immediately. Once she'd made peace with the Hollow inside of her, she felt like it was only natural to harness its power. She had worked hard turning a curse into a gift; ignoring that ability seemed ridiculous.

She rushed forward at him, her _nodachi _screaming an arc through the pouring rain as it sliced forward at him. Her eyes narrowed as he made no attempt to evade the attack, his own dead orbs watching her stoically. He raised his empty sword to block, but her zanpakuto passed through its shadow as though it was made of air and she followed through into his chest.

Her own blade had vanished, the upper half having exploded in a vibrant orange light. She was bowed down before him, her half-sword having missed him completely.

She leapt away as he swung down with his own blade, the rocks at his feet also exploding in a burst of orange. She vanished in a buzz of _sonído, _placing several meters between them. She looked at the demolished half of her zanpakuto, her eyebrows furrowed as she studied the impossibly straight edge of where her sword had vanished. It was as if her blade had simply stopped existing past that point.

It suddenly began to grow back, that same orange glow engulfing her blade as it seemed to rebuild itself, atom by atom. She looked up at Akon, her former student looking at her blankly, and scowled.

_This is going to be tricky, _she thought as he lunged at her.

* * *

"Peculiar," Szayel-Aporro sneered, looking over Soi Fon's shoulder while his zanpakuto blocked her _shikai_, "you have Neliel with you too?"

Soi Fon shoved him backwards and leapt away, her eyes darting over her shoulder as she verified his statement; Neliel was near the train, surrounded by a slew of _Menos _while battling with a small Arrancar. Soi was relieved that she'd survived the train wreck, but her current situation didn't look good. Her young opponent appeared to be keeping up with her quite easily, while more and more _Gillian _poured out of the _garganta _above her. Soi bit back the urge to rush to her aid.

"You shouldn't take your eyes off of your opponent, Captain Soi Fon," Szayel-Aporro hissed in her ear, his _katana _swinging at her exposed back in a flash. She vanished for a moment, reappearing a few meters away, a thin gash running across her shoulder blades.

"I figured I could take the risk with you."

"Obviously not."

She gritted her teeth. He was right. She was so out of practice it was painful. Her months of Hollow slaughtering had kept her in shape, but she was completely unprepared for an Espada-level opponent. Her reflexes were pitiful – she could see an attack coming, plan out a block and a counter, but her arm wouldn't move as fast as she expected it to. It was extremely frustrating and it was beginning to affect her ability to see the battle clearly. She was second-guessing all of her movements, the timer in her either running both too fast and too slow.

But more than that, her opponent was incredibly strong. She had fought him before, but she'd been able to decapitate him without even releasing her zanpakuto. Now she was struggling just to land a hit on him. As upset as she was at herself for losing her edge, she knew that her struggled battle with the pink-haired Arrancar was not solely her fault. She could only assume that Szayel-Aporro Granz had been augmented by the _hougyoku. _

"You look confused, Captain," Szayel-Aporro said, arrogantly. "Are you perhaps thinking about my increase in power? Yes, I have been supplemented by the _hougyoku. _You should certainly realize by now that you cannot win this battle. I have yet to release my _resurrección, _I've completely analyzed your attack patterns, and you're struggling against me. This is over already."

Without a word Soi Fon vanished, only to reappear in a sphere of clones that zipped in and out of sight as they surrounded the Espada. He smiled and watched the copies move, his amber eyes flicking back and forth quickly. He struck out with his sword and blocked a jab from _Suzumebachi, _the flurry of movement surrounding him suddenly becoming one figure of Soi Fon. She grunted at the missed attack and vanished again, the swarm of her images quickly reappearing. She repeated this three times, each of her stabs deflected by his zanpakuto in turn.

"I already told you I have your attacks analyzed, Captain Soi Fon," he sneered, his interest no longer held by her flash steps. "Just because it looks like there are more of you doesn't mean that—"

The words stopped in his mouth as six yellow rods shot into his body. His arms were pinned to his sides, his _katana _no longer being able to properly defend his exposed body. Soi Fon appeared out of the haze of clones, the gold and black needle swiftly jabbing into his chest twice, before she vanished once more. She reappeared behind the pink-haired Arrancar, sliding her unreleased zanpakuto into its sheath.

"Death in two steps," she said down at him. "_Nigeki Kessatsu." _

He turned and glared at her, his eyes bulging, saliva frothing between clenched teeth. The double hornet's crests on his chest bloomed as blood trickled down the front of his white uniform. He started hissing at her, low and throaty, but the words he was trying to form died in his mouth. She turned around, and went to help Neliel.

A _cero _suddenly erupted from below her. She tumbled forward clumsily, the hood of her jacket burning away as it lagged behind. She whirled around, glaring at her unharmed opponent's smile. She growled at him, her breath coming out in steamy clouds as the cold rain strengthened. He pointed his zanpakuto at her and his smile twisted into a smirk.

"I spent the entire afternoon preparing that illusion for you, Captain Soi Fon," he said, lifting the tip of his _katana_ to his lips. "So I hope you liked it. Sip, _Fornicarás."_

He shoved the entire length of his sword down his gullet, his eyes bulging as his body was enveloped in a harsh violet light. Soi leapt back from him, placing a safe amount of distance between the two of them. She had seen how tricky his _resurrección _was before and knew first-hand how far its range was.

The light died and she saw his new form. The second exposure had altered his release's appearance. His pink hair was now very long, cascading down his back to his waist. His chest was bare, the gown that concealed his legs only rising to his navel. He now had three sets of wings, each of them dangling straight behind him. He looked at Soi Fon with a smile before his wingspan exploded outwards, three dozen tentacles arcing out at her at once.

She whipped the _wakizashi _out from its sheath, but she didn't have time to release the zanpakuto. She immediately sliced away one of the violet feelers as it approached her. It instantly began to re-grow, the bloodied tip erupting out of its useless stump. Soi vanished in as another of the tentacles attempted to wrap itself around her legs. She reappeared and cut it in half, vanishing quickly as it began to grow back.

_Dammit, _she thought as she fell out of _shunpo _to hack at another set of tentacles. They immediately grew back. She cut away a pair to her left, instantly spinning to remove another as they struck at her exposed backside. One of them locked onto her ankle before she could disappear. She sliced downward to remove it, immediately cursing her stupidity; that was exactly what he'd wanted.

As soon as she had removed the tentacle from her leg, he had slapped out another to ensnare her wrist. With her sword-hand immobilized, she was now defenseless. For the first time since she'd lost it, Soi Fon desperately needed her left arm. She could use her right hand to cast a _kidou _spell, but she would need to let go of her zanpakuto to do so. Another set of tentacles wrapped around her legs and torso. She looked up at her captor, painfully realizing that he had her completely caught with only one of his six wings. Even if she dropped her sword to blast him with a _hadou _and escape, he would most likely be able to ensnare her again before she was able to recover it.

"_Déjà vu, _Captain Soi Fon," Szayel-Aporro chortled as he spread the rest of his wingspan menacingly. The tentacle that was wrapped around her waist slid up her chest and began to caress her neck. "I have fond memories of doing this to you before."

His words had no lust in them; the actions were only to disgust her. His was receiving his enjoyment solely from her agony. He snickered at her struggling and continued speaking, his tentacles further tightening their hold on her.

"This is the power that Aizen possesses now," he said gesturing at himself. "You should know that you Shinigami never had a chance at defeating him. You should thank me for killing you now. To end your foolish attempt at rebellion before it mutates into hope. It's probably the only altruistic thing I'll ever do."

His free wings suddenly lurched forward at her, their tentacles locking together and forming a shell around her body. She glared at him as they slowly enclosed her, his smile growing as more and more of the tomb surrounded her body. Soon she couldn't see anything as the last of the tentacles hid her from the rain and the thunder and the world. She screamed and writhed against the wings that bound her limbs, but they only tightened as she struggled.

She had lost.

"Reap," the words were muffled, but she could still hear them, "_Kazeshini."_

Then there was light. The tomb began to fall apart around her as the appendages fell away from their source. She could see her opponent again, his mighty wings already grown back from their useless bases, his smile now a sneer as he looked up at the newcomers that had stripped him of his victory. Hisagi Shuuhei stood in the sky above them, spinning _Kazeshini's _chainslazily in his hands. A young woman stood next to him, her arms folded over her chest as she glared defiantly at everyone on the battlefield. Hisagi looked down at Soi Fon, a rare smile adorning his face as the rain began to slow. She resisted the very strong urge to run up to him and hug him.

"Soi Fon," he barked, smirking as he caught his blades, "I don't think I've ever seen you lose before. It doesn't suit you."

* * *

**_author's note:_**

_okay so i decided to write this chapter. so you better enjoy it. lol._

_thanks as always to **jazzpha **__and **matsumama **for the proofreadan._

**___reviews _**___are appreciated as always._

___happy turkey day to all my statesians._

**___jta~!_**

**____****_boléro - maurice ravel_**

**____****_bacchanale - vangelis_**


	14. Bagatelle and Berceuse

_**Bagatelle and Berceuse**_

Hisagi Shuuhei yanked back on the chain in his right hand, the double-edged scythe flying back into his grasp as Szayel-Aporro's wings fell apart in front of him. His left weapon was already racing through the air, its blades slicing into the Arrancar's shoulder. The Espada leapt backwards, placing distance between himself and his new attackers. The severed tentacles slowly peeled away from around Soi Fon, the petite woman's eyes immediately seeking Hisagi out as he hovered above the battle.

Her silver irises met his for the first time in over two years.

The last time he'd seen her was when she'd left for her mission in _Hueco Mundo. _He'd gazed on when the _garganta _closed as he'd sat on a distant rooftop, watching as she'd left with Renji and Grimmjow and Rukia. He still remembered wishing their team luck as they departed. Of course, it had been more of a friendly formality than an actual message. While he had offered the phrase with sincerity, he hadn't assumed that they would need "luck". Not once did he think that they were all confidently strolling into the trap that had destroyed Soul Society.

He hadn't heard many specifics on how her mission had ended—He knew it had ended in failure, he knew that Grimmjow had been captured. He hadn't known that she had lost an arm. Looking down at her now, as she stared up at him, she looked helpless. He hated it. When he'd fallen in love with her so long ago, it was because she was strong and fiercely independent. He'd always respected her ability to lead and take control and drill through whatever problems life tossed at her. Saving her from an Espada and seeing her minus an arm was enough to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

Then she smiled at him and he knew that, despite her handicaps, she was still the same.

"Lilynette," he said from the side of his mouth, "I think I can take care of this guy. See if you can help someone else."

"Yeah," she replied absently, her eyes already focused on one of the three other skirmishes taking place below them. She glanced back at him, her eyes drifting over toward Soi Fon for a moment, before she vanished in a buzz.

Soi Fon whispered into view immediately after Lilynette left, her own small body appearing next to his. He looked down at the top of her head; she was focused on the Espada in front of them. He could smell her, the abating rain mixing with her sweat and bringing a nostalgic odor to his nostrils. For the first time in decades, he realized that he missed her constantly being in his life.

"Who's the girl?" she asked, still focusing on the recovering Szayel-Aporro.

"Lilynette Gingerback," he replied. "I guess you could call her my Espada."

She scoffed. "Yeah, those seem to be going around."

"You cut off your braids."

"Among other things."

"I didn't mean—"

"I think we can postpone the chit-chat for now, don't you?"

"Yeah."

He clenched his jaw at his conversational blunder. She snickered at him and rolled her eyes; she'd been messing with him. He sneered as she darted forward, her gold and black gauntlet reclaiming her wrist as it swiftly searched for a target on the Arrancar ahead. Hisagi focused, swinging the chains in his hands loosely, lazily, watching her movements carefully, her small body darting in and out of sight as she attacked the Espada. He could read her movements, her dodges and parries. He kept the twin scythes spinning casually at his sides as their opponent danced away from her, Szayel-Aporro's purple-tipped wings blocking and striking in time with her advances.

_There! _Hisagi yelled at himself, lunging forward, joining the waltz of battle, his right hand loosing the sickle immediately as Soi Fon leapt away from the Espada's approaching wings._Kazeshini's _blade sliced through three of the tentacles and was immediately tugged back, the left already crisscrossing over its brother at the Arrancar's body. The Espada brought up his remaining wings to smack the blade away, Soi Fon appearing behind him, her dagger aimed for the back of his head.

Szayel-Aporro Granz spun swiftly, his wounded wings already repaired as they arced out against his assailant. Soi Fon, forced to abort her attack, flipped upwards and over her target, gripping his deadly wings as Hisagi returned with his scythes spinning toward them. She pulled the white limbs taught as the twirling blades sliced them away once more. The remaining wings reached out and gripped Hisagi, the bulbous appendages at the tips opening their violet mouths to swallow him. Soi Fon reappeared directly below the Arrancar, her stinger aimed at a preexisting crest on his pelvis. Szayel-Aporro leapt backwards to avoid the strike, releasing his prey in self-defense.

_Shit, _Hisagi thought, sliding backward through the air, struggling for breath. _This guy's fast. And I'm out of practice. I couldn't imagine fighting him alone—No wonder Soi almost lost._

"Shuuhei," Soi Fon said, appearing at his side, her breathing heavy, her voice low. "Think you can buy me some time and distract this guy for a bit?"

"I don't know about that, Soi," he grumbled. "I'm a little rusty."

"We all are, Shuuhei," she quipped as she vanished without another word.

She wouldn't have taken no for an answer anyway.

"I wonder what she has up her sleeve," Szayel-Aporro mused across from him, his amber eyes idly searching the forest below. Hisagi remained silent, but the Arrancar continued, "I really should stop her, but I'm interested in seeing what she'll do—I must admit she'd already become rather vapid. _You_, on the other hand, have piqued my curiosity an awful lot."

Hisagi continued his silence, his scythes spinning, ready to fly.

Szayel-Aporro chuckled. "Hisagi Shuuhei, Captain of the Ninth division, correct?"

Silence.

"So you're the one who stole Lilynette from Starrk?"

Hisagi's eyebrows tightened.

Szayel-Aporro smirked wickedly and looked over his shoulder at one of the three battles taking place on the ground. He looked back at Hisagi, his smirk now a sneer. "So I would be safe in assuming she hasn't told you about him?"

"You Arrancar talk too much," Hisagi said coolly. He stopped his blades from spinning, gripping the handles and crossing his scythes over his chest.

"_Bankai."_

* * *

Lisa scrambled over a bed of wet cobblestones, her jeans soaked from the chilly stream below, her shirt from the freezing drizzle above. She slumped backwards against a large boulder, her mouth hanging slack as she gasped for breath. She knew Akon was behind her, somewhere beyond the stone, his lifeless eyes prowling the gulley for any sign of her. She looked down at her zanpakuto, the upper half of _Haguro Tonbo _still missing from her last attempt to attack him.

Akon's ability was almost entirely defensive. Whenever his blade touched something, it would explode in a vibrant and blinding flash of orange before disappearing entirely. The obliterated item would eventually reappear, but not before leaving his opponent startled and defenseless. Every time Lisa tried to attack him, her blade was temporarily annihilated above the point of impact. Whenever she attempted to block, the result was the same. The only way to beat him was to make clean contact on his body before touching the blade.

This was, of course, far easier said than done.

Her zanpakuto began to rebuild itself rapidly, the top half of the _nodachi _engulfed in orange light as it spawned from nothingness. _Ten seconds, _Lisa thought, taking another deep breath, pulling her mask back over her face.

_Ten seconds._

She darted out from behind the boulder, Akon immediately sprinting behind her, his zanpakuto slicing the boulder in half. The massive rock vanished above the cut, the top half ceasing to exist. Lisa quickly dropped down, her hands resting on the smooth cold stones and she spun her sword out at Akon's ankles. Unable to block, he flipped over her attack, his own blade slicing down at her head. She rolled to the side, the tip of his zanpakuto destroying her braid at the halfway point.

_One. _She scrambled up to her feet, leaping backwards as Akon lunged forward, his blade swinging down at her chest. It missed, but the cobbles below vanished into orange. He charged again.

_Two. _She was on the retreat once more, unable to attack or block. She hated resorting to running away, but she knew there was no other option at the moment. Her pride, as foolish as it could be, wasn't blind to that fact.

_Three. _She leapt into the sky, spinning the handle of her _nodachi _over her wrist. She wordlessly turned the spin into the thirty-ninth _bakudo, Enkosen. _She pushed the glowing shield away from herself, and into Akon's path. He swung his sword against it, the edge halting against the barrier.

_Four. _She grimaced as his blade sliced through the _bakudo _and he continued to follow her up into the sky. It was good to know that _kidou _could momentarily stop him, even if it was for an extraordinarily brief moment. She would have to keep that in mind.

_Five. _She noticed that the boulder behind Akon's shoulder, below them, began to rebuild. It was the largest in her immediate area. She would need to use it for shelter one more time. She dropped from the sky, Akon's zanpakuto missing her face as she fell.

_Six. _She hit the ground hard and rolled, her back on the wet stones, her face pointed to the sky. She threw her hands upward, releasing a _hadou, Tenran. _She knew the cyclone would do little to stop Akon, but it would help her to gain cover once more.

_Seven. _She sprang to her feet as the _kidou _above her was instantly cleaved through, the magical tornado vanishing at the hands of her opponent. She grimaced and turned to face him again, her free hand curled into a fist.

_Eight. _She waited the tiniest of moments, Akon approaching steadily, before throwing her fist downward. A massive plume of crimson smoke erupted from the ground, the _Sekienton _covering her as she dashed towards her hiding place.

_Nine. _She couldn't look back. She knew that he would be out of the cloud in a moment, but she wanted to make it to the safety of the boulder and catch her breath. She needed to see if her plan could actually work.

_Ten. _She dived behind the boulder, her braid rebuilding itself as she pressed her back against the wet stone. She grinned through heaving gasps for breath. He was semi-vulnerable to _kidou,_and she knew the time it took for regeneration. She knew how to win this.

_Ten seconds._

Lisa took another breath, and leapt out from behind the boulder.

Akon was there. He had been waiting exactly where she had leapt out from behind the massive rock. She stumbled back in a clumsy retreat, but he had been expecting her. He was ready for her. He had calculated her movements long before she had emerged from hiding. She attempted to slip to the side, but his zanpakuto was already screaming down at her chest. The empty blade slipped through her left arm, just below the shoulder, the limb exploding in a burst of orange.

Lisa screeched and darted away in a buzz. Akon followed, his lifeless orbs honed in on her every movement. She reappeared for a moment, her white sneakers touching down for the briefest of seconds, before she vanished once more. Akon also landed, but he stood still, his eyes trailing through the empty air for a second before he vanished again. The pain in her shoulder was excruciating. It felt like there were a billion invisible pincers digging away at the clean edge that Akon's blade had left in her flesh. She bit down and stopped hard, removing herself from_sonído _as Akon whispered into sight in front of her. She threw out her remaining hand, clenched in a fist around the handle of her sword.

"_Hadou _thirty-one," she growled, "_Shakkahou!_"

The red fireball roared forward at her opponent, exploding against the vacant edge of his zanpakuto. Lisa skipped back and slashed her blade out into the empty air, a screen of blue falling from the horizontal strike. It was some unnamed barrier that Hachi had taught her years ago; she was hoping it was unique enough to slow Akon's strike. Otherwise, she was a dead woman.

His blade stuck into the side of the blue curtain, its path slowed for a brief moment. It continued to annihilate the wall, but slowly. It would take him another half second to cleave through it completely. Lisa sidestepped the slowed strike and smirked as his _katana _erupted from the other side of the shield, his face completely open to her left side. She lunged forward with her left shoulder.

_Ten seconds._

As she approached him, her arm began to rebuild itself from nothingness. The limb's reconstruction was nearly as painful as when it had been obliterated, the nanoclaws pulling at her shoulder as they manufactured the appendage, atom by atom, cell by cell, from the void. Akon turned his face up at her, his lifeless eyes looking at the orange glow approaching him, his cheek completely open as her fist suddenly existed again. Her reincarnated knuckles cracked against his defenseless jaw and he fell to the floor. She was immediately on top of him, her_nodachi _sticking through his forehead and pinning it to the ground. He made no more movements against her.

Lisa looked down into his lifeless eyes, hoping for, and dreading, some sign of recognition in his face. Did he remember who she was? Were his last thoughts of her? A silent plea for answers, asking why, why, why was she killing him? She looked down into his dead orbs for any indication of thought.

There was none. He only stared up at her, the last of his artificial life ebbing away. She felt a lump form in her throat as she removed her zanpakuto from his skull. She turned and left her favorite pupil to finally rest in peace at the bottom of this nameless valley.

* * *

Neliel sprang backwards, her left foot landing against the side of a thick pine, her right swinging out and catching Wonderweiss Margera in the chin. The blonde idiot spun away, droplets of saliva falling from his mouth. She kicked off the tree and into the air, her body flipping backwards, her long legs aiming for the sky. A _Gillian _appeared above her, its massive mask cracking as her shoe crashed into it. She kicked off its face, thrusting the tip of her _Gamuza _into the widening eye of another giant Hollow.

Wonderweiss was already at her back, the blood trickling from his nose doing little to distract him from attacking her. Neliel grunted and threw her fist at him, her knuckles plowing into his left eye. His head snapped back, his torso and legs following it, before he righted himself and popped forward at her once more. She slashed out with her zanpakuto, the edge of the _katana_slicing away one of his uniform's poofy white shoulders, but doing almost nothing against his iron-like skin.

He giggled and thrust his hand at her, his vicious fingertips flying toward her neck. She spun her face away as the stiff digits opened a thin slice in the pale flesh of her throat, the blood mixing with the blonde hair of her _gigai_. She kicked her foot up into his chest, the toe of her sneaker catching him right in the sternum. His eyes bulged as the wind rushed from his lungs and he doubled over. Neliel slammed her elbow into the back of his head and sent him plummeting to the valley floor. She turned and was immediately surrounded by another herd of _Gillian._

She couldn't seem to catch a second of respite in this battle. The stream of _Gillian _showed no signs of lessening, much less stopping. She couldn't get through them to attack their source, Fuura; the behemoth was still hanging contently from the massive _garganta, _its swollen maw split wide as a black cascade fell from its jaws. The waves of _Menos _seemed to be staggered enough that she wasn't constantly surrounded by them, but she could only dispose of three or four at a time before Wonderweiss attacked her again.

She couldn't seem to find any strategy with the boy. His mind seemed content with attacking her non-stop, his tongue lolling out of his grin as he charged her again and again. With an ordinary opponent, she might have been able to find a moment of rest while he was gloating or threatening her, but he had no other motive than to destroy her. Even when she would send him careening to the ground, he would be back at her by the time she was done with the most recent phalanx of _Gillian. _Never mind that she hadn't found enough time to release her zanpakuto; she was constantly spinning in circles to escape attacks from all sides.

Neliel Tu Oderschvank was nearing her limit.

The edge of her sword bit hard into the mask of the nearest _Gillian _and the monster bellowed in agony, its head flinging backwards. The _katana, _stuck fast into the beast's face,was ripped out of her hands, the steel flipping out of the creature's mask and spiraling down to the ground. Neliel grimaced and dived after it, narrowly avoiding the gnashing teeth of another _Menos Grande._Her olive eyes scanned the rocks and shrubs below, looking for any sign of her weapon. A flash of metal caught her eye at the edge of the clearing.

Wonderweiss buzzed in front of her, his own wide zanpakuto swinging toward her. She held up her hands and took the edge of the claymore against her palms, her _hierro _stopping the strike from following through and cleaving her in half. She gripped onto the broad blade, blood trickling down her forearms in crimson rivulets as Wonderweiss pressed it harder against her, his mouth turned up in a vacant smile. Neliel growled and clasped the width of the blade and roared, swinging it as hard as she could. Wonderweiss' grin fell as his body followed his weapon, his two hands mindlessly clasped onto the handle as she tossed it away.

She dropped to the valley floor, knowing how little time she had to find and retrieve her weapon. She hadn't flung Wonderweiss too far; he would be able to recover and attack her again momentarily. And if not him, then the _Gillian _would soon be upon her once more. She could see a green handle sticking out from a leafless bush. She hit the ground, her long legs running and carrying her across the rocks as she darted after her sword. She heard a low rumble behind her, the signature sound of a _Menos _approaching.

She gripped the handle of her zanpakuto and spun, immediately lashing out with her _katana _and cutting the _Gillian _away at the ankle. The beast toppled backwards and into the waiting jaws of his companions, three of the black towers hungrily taking a wounded brother into their mouths. Neliel buzzed away, reappearing a kilometer down the valley to double over and gasp for air, _Gamuza _sticking into the damp earth as she propped her exhausted frame against it.

With a buzz, Wonderweiss appeared behind her, his broad blade thrusting forward at her back. She gasped in surprise and leapt backwards into the middle of the valley. The herd of _Menos_turned as she appeared, their target relocated, their bodies once more lumbering towards her. She blocked against Wonderweiss' wide strikes, but the thin steel of her _katana _was easily slapped away by his broadsword. She skipped backwards as he charged her, her lungs burning with exhaustion, her eyes blurring in fatigue.

A massive sphere of red and orange and white swung in from her left, like a burning wrecking ball, and slammed into Wonderweiss Margera. Neliel tripped back into the stream as the boy vanished inside the roiling blaze, the miniature sun flying onward and into the forest. She stood and watched as the ball of fire exploded over the wood, drenching the trees in its flames. She turned and smiled, the relief and joy at the appearance of an old ally nearly overwhelming her.

Lilynette Gingerback landed next to her, the young Espada's flamethrowing _resurreción _already released. She peered out from the narrow eye slit that stretched across her white mask, her pink irises scanning the infernal forest for any sign of movement. She glanced at Neliel quickly, expressionlessly, before returning her gaze flameward.

"Lilynette," Neliel said, relief and exhaustion evident in her voice. "Harribel got you to come?"

"Not like I had a choice," Lilynette shot back curtly, her eyes still intent on the forest.

"You still haven't told Starrk?" It wasn't really a question.

"Nope. And while we're here, I don't want any of these assholes making it back to tell him for me."

She looked at Neliel again, her eyes relaxing enough to betray a small sliver of happiness. Despite being close allies, they hadn't seen each other in almost three years. After they'd begun their planning with the Vizards, Neliel couldn't risk being discovered and Lilynette had to take her place in the Espada. All communication between them had been through Harribel and, recently, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow.

Neliel couldn't help but smile at her now. She looked older.

"You take care of Fuura, okay?" Lilynette said. "I'm gonna get back and make sure Shuuhei finishes off Szayel…"

She trailed off, her eyes tightening as she looked at the forest. Neliel spun around and immediately saw what had grabbed her friend's attention: the fires in the forest were going out, quickly. They were lessening from a single point, as though there was a hole dragging all of the flames into it.

They were gone.

The rain had stopped falling heavily enough to extinguish the inferno that Lilynette had created; there shouldn't have been any reason for it to suddenly vanish like that. Neliel tightened her grip on her sword as her eyes watched for any sign of life.

A buzz of _sonído _sounded next to her. She turned to see Wonderweiss Margera's _resurreción _towering above her, his shadow falling over Lilynette as he moaned softly at her. His long arm quickly shot out, slapping the smaller Arrancar away like a gnat, her tiny body tumbling and skipping down the ravine like a pebble on a pond. With another buzz, Wonderweiss followed her.

"Lilynette!" Neliel cried, holding her zanpakuto out in front of her chest, her bloodied palm touching its back as she sprinted.

"Declare, _Gamuza!"_

* * *

Yumichika leapt from branch to branch, his footing sure despite the wetness of the alpine canopy. He could hear Hitomi below him somewhere, her massive zanpakuto smashing down trees in her search for him. He knew that he could outrun her for a while by staying in the treetops, but she had yet to show any signs of fatigue and he suspected she would render the entire forest into barrens in her search for him.

He landed on another branch and crouched on the thick limb as he caught his breath. He hadn't fought a real opponent since Charlotte Cuuhlhourne two years ago. Regularly fighting Hollow was one thing, but opponents like Espada or Shinigami were on a different level entirely. He had, to his chagrin, lost a bit of his edge. He grimaced as he looked at the forest floor below him, pissed at himself for being so out of practice.

The tree he was on suddenly began to fall, its base exploding below him. Yumichika hissed out a curse and stood quickly, leaping from the capsizing pine to one that was safer. He didn't know if Hitomi saw where he was or if she was just smashing down every tree that stood in her way. Whichever it was, he needed to get away from here.

Despite knowing that she was dead, and nowhere near the woman he had once known, he couldn't bring himself to attack her. Seeing her again had flooded him with memories and emotions that he had long ago tried to drown in whiskey. Now that she stood in front of him, after he had lost her forever, he realized how much he still wanted her to be around. He realized that she was, for that one year in Manhattan, everything to him. He realized that loved her and he realized that he'd let her die that night.

As absurd as it was to avoid fighting her, he couldn't bring himself to kill her again.

He leapt to another branch as a massive ball of fire bowled into the woods in front of him and exploded.

"_Shit!" _he gasped and stumbled backwards off the branch he'd been standing on. He fell down to the earth below, his right side covered in fire. He landed in cold mud and leapt back to his feet, his pants extinguished by the damp soil, his left hand patting down his jacket's flaming right sleeve.

_What the fuck was that? _he asked himself as he looked around at the raging forest fire that had suddenly engulfed him. He knew that Hitomi's zanpakuto couldn't be responsible; it didn't have any _kidou _abilities, much less an attack that could set the entire wood ablaze.

_Ah shit, _Yumichika thought, spinning around and immediately raising his _katana _in defense. _Hitomi._

Hitomi rushed at him from out of the flames, hitting Yumichika's blade hard enough to send him flying into a burning tree. The wind rushed out of his lungs as he crashed through the thick trunk and he skidded to a stop in the wet soil. He gasped and hacked for air, blood speckling his chin as he coughed. Hitomi stalked through the wall of fire as he struggled to get back up.

Her released zanpakuto was a massive cestus, a battle-glove of steel and leather and rope that engulfed her right hand and forearm. It was almost twice as thick as her arm, covered in barbs of metal, and strong enough to turn a building into rubble. While it made her attacks slow and easily avoidable, Yumichika knew first-hand that they were nearly as powerful as Ikkaku's_bankai._

She lunged forward at him, her powerful fist swinging down at the patch of earth on which he was still recovering. He leapt backwards as the cestus created a crater in the ground where he'd been standing. He skipped to the side, hoping to place himself in her blind spot and escape back to the treetops without her noticing which direction he'd fled to.

Hitomi spun and swung her fist out blindly, wildly, in Yumichika's direction. He quickly raised his zanpakuto up against his shoulder, his left hand bracing it for additional support. The thin blade took the brunt of the attack, but his body was sent flying through a wall of fire. He flipped backwards and landed on his feet, his eyes searching through the flames for Hitomi. His arms were shaking. There was a sharp pain in his left collarbone; it was most likely fractured.

He looked down at his _katana _and noticed a small crack in the steel.

_Shit._

"Bloom, _Fuji Kujaku," _he said, reluctantly calling out his zanpakuto's weaker form. He wouldn't be able to take another blow with his unreleased blade, but _Ruri'iro Kujaku _would make it impossible to defend himself. He needed the physical strength of _Fuji Kujaku._

_Because for some fucking reason, _he thought as he split his sword into its four scythes, _I'm still looking for a way to avoid killing her._

Every bone in his body, every sinew and muscle, was fighting against his decision to run away. As much as he wanted to flee and let her go, he had placed centuries into honing his skills as a killer. Such hard-earned instincts weren't exactly easy to relinquish. He'd already struck out at her once, before she'd released her zanpakuto; he knew that if he did anything but flee, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from killing her.

She lunged out of the flames to his left, the deadly glove swinging through the air toward his gut. He skipped backwards, but his sneaker slipped in the mud and he stumbled backwards, his shoulder blades slamming into the trunk of another burning tree. Hitomi recovered as he stumbled, her massive weapon rocketing forward at his face.

Luckily, he slipped in the mud once more and slid to the base of the trunk, the monstrous glove decimating the tree above his head, sending splinters raining down upon his hair and shoulders. He scrambled to his feet, his arm swinging up on its own and the four scythes of his zanpakuto cut into the cestus and sent Hitomi's fist flying upwards.

Her midsection was left completely open.

He couldn't stop himself from rushing forward at the opening, his foot pushing himself off from the tree, both of his hands gripping the handle of his zanpakuto tightly, his body throwing its entire weight into the slashing of her belly. The quartet of sickles cut into her gut and passed through her effortlessly, severing her spine as they exited her back, the momentum sending Yumichika tumbling forward as Hitomi gurgled out a single grunt and she fell to the mud, her body hitting the earth with two separate _thuds._

Yumichika rolled forward and got to his feet, his eyes focused on the ground ahead of him. He didn't want to turn around and look at her body. He wasn't going to turn around. He knew she was gone. He didn't need to look at her.

He walked forward into the inferno, gripping his wounded shoulder, hoping to find some way out of the forest before it burned to the ground with him inside of it.

The flames abated, quickly, silently, and the fire was over in the span of a breath.

"What the hell?" Yumichika asked the empty forest, his eyes scanning the smoldering woods ahead of him. He squinted in the fading daylight and smoke, looking for any possible reason the roiling fires would suddenly vanish like that.

A flash of light roared above him, a shockwave and explosion forcing him to the ground, the tall trees falling over him like weightless tinder.

* * *

Hisagi swung out his left fist, the white _khopesh _of _Hakuun Kazeshini _slicing at Szayel-Aporro's neck. The Espada's head shot back, the crooked blade missing his throat by a mere centimeter. His wings took up the space and lunged forward at Hisagi. The Shinigami slashed into the right wing, severing it, before he leapt away completely. The white weapon in his hand released a dozen tendrils of wind as he pulled it away, the airy fingers gripping onto the Espada's own tentacles.

Szayel-Aporro growled and yanked back on his wing, but the wisps that held them were stronger than he'd supposed and his purple limb was torn into pieces as it was retracted. He reached out once more with his already repaired wings and attempted to ensnare Hisagi, but the captain had already moved around to his rear. The Shinigami raked the hooked blade across the small of Szayel-Aporro's back, sending the Espada leaping forward as a torrent of blood sprayed out from the wound. Hisagi darted after him.

Szayel-Aporro spun around immediately, his purple-tipped index finger almost poking into Hisagi's chest. The Shinigami's eyes bulged in surprise as a violet ball of energy swirled around the tip of the Espada's fingertip. Hisagi leapt backwards, slashing out with his left blade as the _cero _roared forward at him. The jagged _khopesh _cut into the beam, slicing it in half while knocking the blade from Hisagi's hand. He grunted as one of his weapons spiraled to the ground, shaking his charred fist as he sailed backwards and placed distance between himself and his opponent.

"Impressive, Captain," Szayel-Aporro said with a grimace. The wound on his back wasn't healing like his severed wings, Hisagi noted. "Not quite the level of skill I was told to expect, but notable nonetheless."

Hisagi lunged forward without reply, his right hand slashing at the Arrancar's chest, his left swing outward against an incoming wing. The pink-haired Espada sneered and spun away, his eyes following the line of Hisagi's attack. He understood that Hisagi had noticed that his body did not heal as his wings did, and that the Shinigami was now putting most of his effort into attacking his torso, almost completely foregoing defense against the wings. Szayel-Aporro finished his dodge and grabbed Hisagi's unarmed wrist and twisted hard.

The Shinigami twirled heels over head with the Espada's grip, avoiding the Arrancar's attempt at splintering his wrist. Hisagi used the added momentum to cut at Szayel-Aporro's exposed belly. The edge of his blade left a shallow slash in the Espada's flesh and the Arrancar released his grip on Hisagi's wrist to leap away from the attack. Hisagi righted himself before springing forward once more, his arm held high as he attempted to cut down through Szayel-Aporro's chest.

The Espada slapped him away with one of his numerous wings, sending him sailing through the air to their left. He regained his stance and focused on his opponent, satisfactorily noting that, for the first time in the fight, Szayel-Aporro was winded. Hisagi spun the blade idly over his knuckles and grinned, catching it once more and leveling it at the Espada.

"Is that any better?" he asked sardonically, silently enjoying the deepening scowl on his opponent's face. "Or would you like to learn what a captain is really capable of?"

Szayel-Aporro snickered and stood straight. "Now what kind of a scientist would I be if I turned down an offer like that? Go ahead and show me…"

He trailed off, his amber eyes drifting over to the air over Hisagi's right shoulder. The Shinigami smirked as he felt the swelling _reiatsu _behind him grow closer. He didn't bother turning around; he knew exactly who was behind him.

"Shuuhei,_" _Soi Fon said as she finished her ascent, the golden torpedo of _Jakuhou_ _Raikouben _already aimed and pointing forward. "Get down._"_

Hisagi rolled forward as Soi Fon's _bankai _roared and shot at the Arrancar. It spun in the sky as it rocketed onward, the missile missing Hisagi's head by mere centimeters as he dropped to the ground below. Szayel-Aporro growled and leapt away, but the rocket followed him. He hissed and spun as it closed in on him, the massive bullet streaking by him and just barely missing his body. He whirled around and laughed at the petite Shinigami.

"You missed me, Captain Soi Fon!" he bellowed in amusement.

"I wasn't aiming for you," she said with an unsettling and confident smirk; it reminded Szayel-Aporro Granz of Grimmjow.

The smirk widened as Soi Fon looked down. "But _he_ was."

Szayel-Aporro glanced downward as Hisagi Shuuhei raced upwards at him, his missing left _khopesh _recovered. The two blades scissored across the Arrancar's chest, releasing a cascade of scarlet blood. Szayel-Aporro stumbled backwards, his eyes wide in shock and pain and fear, a hand pressing the fresh wound as he attempted to retreat.

The gold and black missile of Soi Fon's _bankai _continued onward past the three fighters, the massive rocket leaving a spiraling trail of smoke as it tore down the valley. It sounded a trio of beeps and chirps, accompanied by a quartet of fins popping out from its sides. It made a few more looping spirals, each tighter than the last, before slamming into the open maw of Fuura. The giant Hollow fell backwards into the _garganta, _the torpedo sticking out of its mouth for the briefest of moments before it exploded and the beast was engulfed in a massive explosion.

A shockwave swept through the valley, knocking down trees as it barreled out from the epicenter of the blast. The fireball of the detonation spread out and swallowed up the wave of _Gillian_that had been ambling away from Fuura's mouth, the flames knocking them into one another as they began to dissipate rapidly.

Wonderweiss Margera briefly stopped his attack on Lilynette and Neliel as the shockwave reached them, his empty eyes looking over his shoulder at the smoldering remains of his favorite pet.

"Oooah?" he questioned at the vanishing corpse, his hands curling into fists as his knuckles dragged the cobbles below.

"What the fuck was that?" Lilynette asked weakly from the ground, her _resurreción _cracked and chipped and useless from her battle with Wonderweiss. Neliel glanced down at her companion briefly before steeling her gaze at Wonderweiss once more. Lilynette's fire attacks had been useless against their opponent, but Neliel's were not; she knew that this distraction was exactly what she needed to kill the towering blonde monster in front of her. She wiped a trickle of blood from her eyes and attacked.

"_Lanzador Verde!" _she yelled, rearing back on the hind legs of her centaur-like _resurreción, _her arm pulled back as far as it would go, the lance in her grip glowing and shaking as she prepared to attack.

Wonderweiss snapped his head back to his two enemies, his mouth twisted in anger. He reached one of his long arms forward to crush Neliel, but her lance slammed into his palm. He howled in anguish as the spear drilled through his hand, erupting out of the back of his fist and plowing into his bulbous shoulder. The javelin tore through his flesh, leaving a gaping fistula at the top of his arm.

Neliel galloped forward and past him to retrieve her weapon, but she was stopped and grabbed by a myriad of white hands. She looked back in shock as more and more arms slithered and spilled out from Wonderweiss' shoulder, the hands curling into fists as they approached. They lifted her up into the air, her four hooves kicking in furious futility. She looked at Lilynette for help, but her companion was pinned by Wonderweiss' other heand, unable to move from the ground. One of the fists slammed into Neliel's cheek, a glob of blood and saliva flinging out of her mouth. Another slapped her back, another punched her ribs, and again, and another after another.

And then she was free. She hit the ground on her side and looked up swiftly; Ayasegawa Yumichika was slicing away at the slithering arms with a quartet of crescent scythes. Wonderweiss bellowed in rage and lunged at Yumichika, but Yadomara Lisa suddenly appeared between the Shinigami and the blonde leviathan, the massive spade of her zanpakuto ramming forward at his neck. Wonderweiss tried to stop, but the Vizard was too close—he stumbled forward and landed neck-first onto the broad blade of her spear, severing his head completely.

"Neliel!" Yumichika yelled, rushing over to where Neliel was on the ground.

_Shit, _she thought as she scrambled to get up, her _resurrección _vanishing as she regained her human-form. _Shit!_

"Move!" she yelled at Yumichika, shoving him aside as she rushed toward the bubbling and bulging head of Wonderweiss Margera. She leapt forward as it burst, the flames that he'd absorbed in his battle with Lilynette erupting from the casing of his tall skull. She opened her mouth and sucked in the _reiatsu _from the explosion, converting the fire into pure energy. Within a moment, the fireball was swallowed and gone completely.

"Holy shit," Yumichika gasped from the ground, ignoring that Neliel had just put him there. "Are you oka—?"

Neliel cut him off as she turned and belched toward the sky behind them, the energy of the explosion erupting from her mouth in a massive _cero. _The pink beam blasted into the air, slamming into the body of Szayel-Aporro. The Espada, occupied with the two captains that had discovered his weakness, was completely blindsided by the blast. He took it head-on and fell to the ground, a trail of blood and smoke following him as his hellish _resurrección _vanished. He hit the earth hard, bounced, and laid still.

Hisagi looked at Soi Fon for a questioning moment, but she was already looking down at their fallen opponent.

"He's still alive," she said at the forest below, her zanpakuto already back to its weak and unreleased state.

"Not for long," Hisagi said, descending to deal the finishing blow. He looked over and saw Lilynette, along with the rest of Soi Fon's companions, quickly limping toward where Szayel-Aporro had fallen; they were all still alive. He smiled, knowing that they had survived the attack. His feet touched the stones below and he took a step toward the edge of the forest where Szayel-Aporro Granz was laying, charred and helpless under the shadow of the burnt trees.

Hisagi stepped into the shadows and a blade of pure black erupted through his chest.

"Shuuhei!" he heard called from behind him, but he couldn't tell who'd said it. He stumbled backwards and out of the shadows, blood trickling down his stomach and from his lips and chin. Kyouraku Shunsui emerged like a ghost from the shaded ground, his pleasant smile widening as Hisagi fell onto his back and into a pool of his own blood.

"Shunsui!" Lisa hissed, as she lunged forward at her old lover, her mask forming over her face. A hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. She gasped and looked to her right, Hirako Shinji glaring into her eyes sternly. She struggled against the grip for a moment, but he held her tight. She looked away and ceased her tugging. He remained silent as he released her, his gaze remaining on her for a moment before he turned and strolled over to Shunsui's side. Lisa did not move.

"Well, ya heard Aizen," Shinji said to Shunsui. "Go ahead an' grab Szayel-Aporro before he gets beat up anymore."

"Yeah, yeah," Shunsui said with a roll of his eyes as he lifted the Espada and hoisted him onto his shoulder. "Always gotta follow Aizen's orders, even if it gets my new _haori _all bloody."

Shinji turned around and faced the group, Yumichika and Lilynette crouched down at Hisagi's side, Soi Fon and Neliel glaring and gripping their swords, Lisa trying her best not to look at him or Shunsui. He pulled his hat down to cover his eyes. He shoved his hands into his pockets. His teeth were hidden behind his lips.

He was not smiling.

"Whatever it is y'all are tryin' to accomplish," he said, looking up at them as Shunsui opened a _garganta _behind him, "I'd get movin' quick. Aizen ain't gonna be too happy about how all this went down today."

He turned and walked into the black portal. He didn't look back as it closed.

"What the fuck was that, Lisa?" Soi Fon yelled. "I thought you said the Vizards were on our side?" If the female Vizard heard the accusation, she didn't show it. She remained still, her eyes focused on where the _garganta _had been.

Soi Fon knelt down by Hisagi. "How is he?"

"Bleeding all over the fucking place," Yumichika said, casting a small healing circle over his friend's chest. Hisagi groaned in pain as the healing spell began. "I can heal him, but we need to get him out of here," he looked up from the bloody body at his hands. "The clouds are getting thick again, and I don't wanna be out here if it gets bad again."

The small girl that had been accompanying Hisagi stood up and stepped back, her hand covering her mouth as he moaned in agony, his blood rubbing off from her fingers and onto her lips as she watched in silence. Neliel stood next to her, her hand on her shoulder, but she didn't say anything.

"Hello?"

The warriors spun at the voice, all available weapons drawn at the owner. A small man, old and feeble, dressed in the brown garments of an Orthodox monk, emerged from the forest. He did not look alarmed at the handful of blades that were pointed at him, his attention instead focused on the bleeding body of Hisagi Shuuhei.

"Please," he said, walking past them. "Bring him with me."

* * *

**_author's note_**

_a bitter-sweet victory, but a victory nonetheless. next chapter should be a good one; a lot of the emotional heaviness that has been building up with "the travelers" will get resolved. _

_thanks as always to **jazzpha **for, well, as if you don't know by now. also shout out to **unseated4th **for a wonderful string of reviews while i was traveling, and thus brightening my transit-filled days._

_speaking of **reviews**, i love reading them, so please be writing them._

**_jta~!_**

**__****_bagatelle sans tonalit___****é - franz liszt**  


**_berceuse - igor stravinsky_**


	15. Ave Maria : Eternal Derelict

_**Ave Maria**_

_** (Eternal Derelict) **_

Ayasegawa Yumichika stood outside in the bright light of the coming night. The ninth sounding of the belfry signaled that it was past nightfall, but the sun remained up in the sky, its rays illuminating the grey layer of clouds that hovered above the valley. A light dusting of snow began and Yumichika shivered in his jacket as he looked up at the falling flakes. He'd been wondering about the clouds all afternoon—if they'd open up again and drop more rain before dissipating. He hadn't expected it to return in the form of snow. He sat down on a rickety wooden chair and held his cup of tea in both hands, the ancient ceramic warming his palms as the entire afternoon replayed in his mind. He looked south and saw the plume of smoke rising from the train wreck. The monk that met them after their battle had led them to his monastery, which was only a kilometer or two north of where they'd been attacked a few hours ago.

He let out a sigh and placed his mug on the dilapidated stoop below, the cup touching the side of his mud-caked sneaker. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. The cardboard case, like the rest of his body, was crumpled and wet and covered in grime. He flipped open the lid, pulled out one of the three disheveled smokes, and made a face. He hoped it would smoke okay. He slid it into his mouth. The emergency pack that he always kept in his breast pocket was starting to get low.

_The one time it's a real emergency, I'm gonna have burned 'em all, _he thought as he flicked the green lighter lifted the sputtering flame to the tip of the cigarette, hoping it was dry enough to light.

"Mind if I get one of those?" Soi Fon asked from behind him.

"I didn't know you smoked," he replied, holding the ruined pack out to her. She accepted it and pulled one out.

"Only when I'm aggravated."

Yumichika stood and handed her the lighter. "Yeah, you and every other smoker in the world. Sit down."

He walked across the patio and grabbed another old chair and dragged it over to where Soi Fon was now sitting. She tossed him the lighter. He sat down next to her and took a drag of his cigarette, the cloud of smoke grotesquely thick in the cold air. The snowflakes were growing larger.

"Jesus, what happened to spring?" he asked, his violet eyes scanning the snowy valley.

"Welcome to the mountains, genius."

"It was a rhetorical question."

"I'm sure it was."

"How are things inside?"

"Miserable."

"Lilynette say anything yet?"

"Who?"

"The girl that came with Hisagi."

"Oh," Soi Fon said, exhaling smoke from her nostrils. "No."

Yumichika remembered the small Arrancar from two years ago. Hisagi had captured her before their mission had turned to shit. He normally wasn't good with remembering names, but it was hard to forget the little firebrand that had spit in his face while he'd kept watch over her. She was anything but aggressive now; she had been sulking all evening, her small frame barely taking up any space in the monastery, her face wilted as she sat outside the room where Hisagi was resting. Apparently her self-imposed silence remained.

Neliel had also remained uncharacteristically somber since they'd arrived here, the Arrancar choosing to cloister herself within her own thoughts. She hadn't spoken a word to anyone, aside from thanking the monks who had offered her a cup of tea, which she'd declined. The last Yumichika had seen her, she was sleeping in one of the pews in the main room of the monastery. While he was concerned about her sudden sullenness, he figured it would be best to leave her alone. If the normally friendly Arrancar wanted to keep her mouth shut, he was not about to try to pry it open.

He had no idea where Lisa was. Once they'd gotten to the monastery, she'd all but turned around immediately. He didn't know where she was going or why, and he didn't bother asking. He didn't really care. She had fallen off his list important subjects. He assumed Soi Fon felt the same way, so even trying to make conversation about the Vizard would most likely lead nowhere.

"Speaking of Hisagi," Yumichika said, "how's he doing?"

"He was still asleep last I saw," she replied, small shiver rumbling in her voice. She dragged on the cigarette.

A silence fell upon the two of them. As close as they had once been – and what little bit of it had been regenerated over the past week – Yumichika and Soi Fon didn't ever have much to talk about with each other. There was a mutual respect and admiration between them, but outside of that they had precious little in common. Yumichika looked out at the valley in silence for a moment, his eyes trailing back and forth as the fat flakes drifted down from the sky, before turning to the woman next to him.

"Well, what's the plan now, Captain?" Yumichika asked.

"I have no idea," Soi Fon said after a second. "I think we're without transportation for a while, which..."

She trailed off as she dragged away the last bit of her cigarette, her silver irises tracing up the side of the nearest mountain. She didn't need to finish her sentence—Shinji's parting advice still echoed in Yumichika's mind, and he was sure it was in Soi's as well. If they didn't have a way to get to Ulaanbaatar within the week, they might as well give up.

Yumichika flicked his cigarette butt into the fresh layer of white that covered the ground.

"I'm gonna go search the train. See if any of our stuff survived." He stood from the chair, his mind grasping onto the small mission in its desperate need for distraction. "Care to join me?"

"I'm freezing," she declined, standing, tossing her own cigarette away and turning to the door. "Thanks for the smoke, Yumi."

"Any time."

Soi Fon stepped into the dimly lit antechamber of the monastery, her cheeks tingling with warmth as she strode deeper into the dark building. She pushed open a wooden door as thick as her arm and entered the main hall of the house. She turned and shoved the door closed as quietly as she could; there was a serenity within the building that she didn't have any intention of disturbing. She walked between rows of ancient wooden pews, noticing in her peripheral vision that Neliel was still sleeping at the end of one of them.

Soi Fon had never seen her Arrancar companion as somber as she had been this evening. There was a definite darkness hovering over the normally vibrant woman. Soi wanted to find some way to get inside of her head, but the sudden downturn of her friend's attitude made her wary of even attempting; the gloomy air that swirled around Neliel was so foreign, Soi had doubts that even the Arrancar herself knew how to handle it. Neliel had been so adept at comforting Soi's fears about Grimmjow when the two women first met—now the Shinigami could do nothing to return the favor. For the first time in her life, Soi Fon was looking directly at a problem she couldn't tackle but very much wanted to solve. It made her feel so powerless, so unnecessary.

Soi left the main room and turned down one of the narrow halls to her left, heading to the living quarters. There was a small kitchen that she couldn't help but look into as she passed. One of the brothers was hovering over a large cauldron, his brown habits flecked with peels of carrot and onion. He leaned over the pot and smelled the steam. He noticed Soi Fon, a smile spreading over his face as she looked in. She returned it, if only briefly, and continued down the hall.

There was still no sign of Lisa. The female Vizard had also been uncharacteristically grave since their battle, but Soi Fon knew the reason for that particular change in attitude. Between killing Akon and seeing Shunsui turned traitor, Soi Fon couldn't imagine her feeling any other way. While she held no real love for Yadomaru Lisa, she could certainly understand the feelings of loss and betrayal that were going through the woman's head.

She glided silently through the monastery; there was a dank and medieval quality to the building and its inhabitants. She had no idea that people could still live so primitively, even after living as a servant girl in _Rukongai_ for the majority of her life. Especially here in the real world, where a technomodernist movement had taken hold of almost every corner of the globe and even jungle tribes had a cell phone. She knew that these men followed scripture, and that scripture said to live humbly, but this was a little extreme. She felt that humility should be a relative term. Compared to the rest of the world, these men at least deserved a television.

She turned another corner and saw that the door to Hisagi's room was cracked open. The Arrancar girl – Lilynette – was no longer hovering around his room like a guard. Soi Fon approached the door and looked both down the hall for the Arrancar. She was nowhere to be seen. Soi Fon poked her head into the room, if only to make sure her old friend was still breathing.

"You smell like an ashtray," he murmured, his weak voice surprising her. She hadn't expected him to be awake.

"Hey," she said, sliding in through the opening in the door, as though widening it any more would disturb something somewhere in the monastery. His chest and left hand were tightly enveloped in the white bandages applied by the monks. Their methods of healing had no effect on the Shinigami, but none of the group wanted to turn down the offer for medical assistance. After they'd applied the dressings, Yumichika had snuck in behind them to complete a series of healing spells.

She took up a vacant chair. "This is two too many times I've had to sit at your bedside, Shuuhei."

"Yeah, I know," he said with a weak chuckle. "_Déjà vu_ all over again or something, right?"

"Yeah," she replied, grabbing his hand and squeezing it gingerly. She didn't mean to do it, but her hand had reached out on its own and gripped his. His fingers tightened on her own for a moment before letting go.

She suddenly felt empty. That brief moment of contact, that most innocent touch of intimacy, made her realize how alone she was. She missed Grimmjow, but more than that, she realized how much more she missed any sort of familiar closeness. Her life for the past two years had been nothing but an intentional distraction—a distraction from her failure and her grief and her loneliness. Touching Hisagi Shuuhei's hand just now, the hand of the first man she'd ever loved, was almost enough to overwhelm her.

"So, how have you been?" he asked innocently. She was briefly relieved that she hadn't allowed her _visage_ to break, that her inner turmoil hadn't been revealed. Or, perhaps, he was just smart enough to talk her away from that dark gulf of grief.

"Oh," she recovered with a roll of her eyes. "I've been better."

"You're telling me."

"How're you feeling?"

"Like hell," he grinned, "but I think I'll pull through."

"Good to hear," she said. "I need you up and alive to help me think of a way to get to Mongolia."

"Why do I have to do it?" he teased. "I need rest. Make Yumichika help you."

"I need a smart person for this one."

"Yumichika's smart."

"No," she scoffed, "Yumichika's a know-it-all. Big difference."

He laughed gingerly, obviously controlling the pressure he placed on his torso. "Well, you have me here. I guess we can brainstorm."

"Well, we need some way to figure out when the next train is coming this way."

"Oh, then I guess it's good that I'm here. I can tell you they aren't running for another week."

"Fuck," she said, deflated. "That's gonna be a problem."

"Why?"

"Because we're running out of time, Shuuhei," she said, almost incredulously. "We need to meet up with Unohana before the weekend, and now we have no way of getting there."

"Hey, hey," he said, sitting up delicately. "Calm down now. I've got a van I think we can all squeeze into."

Soi Fon stared at him for a moment, her head tilted as though she hadn't heard him right.

"What?"

"How do you think I got here, Soi? Walked?"

"I wouldn't put it past you," she said quickly.

"I almost had to."

A moment of silence passed, the two of them looking at each other with teasing smiles on their faces. Soi had almost forgotten how handsome he was, even with the scars and tattoos. The angle of his face, sharp and aggressive, contrasting with the soft, gentle sternness of his black eyes. She was ashamed of the pangs of lust that welled inside of her belly, but she couldn't help but attempt to embrace the warmth. Her indefatigable loyalty to Grimmjow was still unshaken, but after such a length of solitude, the desire for intimacy was all but a thirst. She swallowed and looked down at her lap for a second. She looked back up at him.

"So the girl," she said swiftly.

"Lilynette?" The softness with which he said her name did not escape Soi Fon.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Yeah," he said.

Another silence.

"I'm sorry about Grimmjow," he said, as if to drive a point home, even if he didn't know he was making one. "We were supposed to meet with you and him in India." He looked away. "Lil was pretty upset about it, too." The tenderness had abated slightly.

"Yeah," she repeated.

"I'm sure you'll see him again," he said, his genuine optimism seeming naïve and out of place. "Or at least I hope you will."

"Thanks, Shuuhei," she said, standing. She reached out and gently touched his shoulder, but there was no longer a flame of lust at the contact. Something about his words had lifted her. Perhaps it was that foolish naiveté; perhaps it was simply hearing someone else say that everything would be okay. Loneliness had been a constant escort for her throughout her entire life, always eclipsing her companions. Her family, Yoruichi, and Grimmjow had all been torn away from her. She'd always wished that they would return, yet her prayers always went unanswered. No one had ever implied that her hopes would come true.

Until now.

"Get better faster, alright?" Soi said to him, sharply, an authentic smile beaming upon her old friend. "Can't have you laying around when we've got shit to do."

"Yes ma'am," he said, returning the grin.

She turned and left the room. Lilynette was leaning against the wall, her eyes staring intently at Soi Fon. She was like a single windflower against the dank wall of the monastery, her pale form so like a toxic anemone waiting to poison whatever agitates it. Soi returned the look for a second, her silver irises meeting the shorter woman's gaze for an intense moment, before she surrendered and looked away.

_It's okay, kid, _she thought as she walked past the pale flower and headed back toward the kitchen in hopes she could distract herself. _He's yours._

Lilynette watched the Shinigami turn into the kitchen before she looked away. She turned and walked into the room, her eyes trained on Shuuhei. She'd come back from the bathroom in time to hear the majority of the conversation he'd had with Soi Fon. She knew about the other Shinigami—Shuuhei's emotional baggage had once stood as a barrier to their budding relationship, and the only way he'd been able to climb that wall was to tell her about his heartbreak at the hands of the female captain.

Yes, Lilynette knew all about Soi Fon.

"So that's Soi Fon, huh?" she asked, sitting down in the chair next to his bed. "I can see why you liked her. Short, skinny. She looks a lot like me. Or is it that I look like her?"

She maintained her glare, but Shuuhei was looking away from her. He seemed very intent on not meeting her gaze. She huffed. If he wanted to play the silent game some more, then that was fine by her.

"Well, you seemed lively enough a minute ago," she said, standing. She walked back to the door. "I guess I can go ahead and stop worrying about you now."

"Who is Starrk?"

The question stopped her exit. Her body tingled with dread at his words, her chest growing cold as the secret she'd been keeping for the past two years finally surfaced. She had no idea how to answer his question properly. She turned and sat back down, leaning forward, her elbows on her knees. She cupped her chin in her hands as she thought. She could feel his eyes, now so intently boring into her, as he awaited a response.

"How do you know about him?" she asked, looking up, hoping she didn't sound too defensive.

He didn't respond immediately. He looked away from her, his eyes not meeting hers by a few centimeters before they locked in again. "That Espada today, Szayel-Aporro Granz," he said. "Asked if I was 'the Shinigami that stole you away from Starrk'."

"Oh."

"So," he asked, quietly, "did I?"

She inhaled slowly and collected her thoughts.

"Starrk is me."

A pause.

"What?"

"I don't know who came first. Neither of us do," she said, twisting her fingers in her lap. "A few days before we'd met Aizen, we were the same _Vasto Lorde. _And then somehow, we split and became two people—me and him. Starrk."

He looked at her blankly.

"I don't know how to explain it," she continued. "There's so much about it I don't understand. We were so alone out in the desert that we—I don't know—We needed each other, we needed ourselves. I don't know."

She looked away this time. How else could she explain it? This thing that was such an integral part of her existence—she'd never had to put it into words before. Nobody understood how it was between her and Starrk. _She _hardly understood what they were. It all felt so natural and right that she'd never once thought about questioning it. Yet she was hated by every other Arrancar because they didn't understand how she could be so revered as well. Because of him being _la Primera. _Her entire existence as an Arrancar had been defined by this one act of soul-splitting desperation. And now that she finally had something of her own to keep, something that was _hers, _she couldn't even explain her origins enough to keep him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" was all he asked.

"Because," she said, her throat tightening with repressed emotion. "Because I was scared."

"Scared?"

"Starrk feels like he owes Aizen his loyalty and I don't and I've betrayed him and then I found you and—"

She was weeping. The emotions that she'd kept inside of her for so long, the fears about her other half, were finally coming to the surface and they were more than she could control. Shuuhei reached out and immediately took her hands into his, gently.

"Hey," he said softly, reassuringly, "it's okay. Come here."

He pulled her to him, kissing her through her sniffles as she crawled into bed with him. "It'll be okay. He'll forgive you."

"How do you know?" she asked as she curled up next to him. "How can you know that?"

"Because," Hisagi Shuuhei said with a grin, "if he cares about your feelings as much about you care about his, he'll have to."

She kissed him again, slowly and passionately, before laying her head down on his chest.

"Ow."

"Sorry," she said through a giggle.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her.

* * *

_He came to her that night, his ruined gloves touching her neck her throat her cheeks, his battered lips brushing against hers in passions that were centuries old, his blonde hair dangling limply in their faces as he hovered over her, his warrior's arms trembling in unaccustomed fatigue as they writhed together under the indefatigable crescent moon of Hueco Mundo, his single eye piercing her with lust and compassion and understanding and regret as he entered her again and again and again and she cried out in pain and pleasure as he thrust into her and oh god it was so good unlike with his master, he was gentle and loving and careful and everything she needed as they came to the summit together and it was oh oh oh so perfect as the moon continued its smile upon them as the world began to unravel around their damned, helpless bodies._

Neliel woke up with a start, her heart racing at the memory that her dream had woke. She groaned and stretched, squirming, scratching her back against the stone walls of the ancient monastery.

The dreams of Tesla had been appearing quite frequently as of late. It had been nearly two decades since she'd seen him, and almost as long since she'd last dreamt of him. She didn't like to think of dreams as prophetic—she'd never seen anything that would prove that they _could _be—but the frequency of the dreams was starting to unnerve her. She didn't like thinking about him. He was just another black cloud, raining over the soaked field of her Hollowed existence.

And having seen that Szayel-Aporro was still alive left a bad taste in her mouth. Tesla may have abandoned her, but she hadn't ever wished for him to die. Even Nnoitra, who eventually got exactly what he wanted, had a sliver in him of something that could be considered _honorable. _Szayel-Aporro Granz was nothing more than a slimy, egotistical hedonist. That he was still alive made her extremely displeased.

She stretched again when she noticed someone looking at her. She shrank down, instinctively hiding her figure at the peering eyes of the monk that was standing at the end of the pew she'd been sleeping in. It was the same brother that had lead them here.

"Have you changed your mind about that tea yet?" he asked innocently, his clouded eyes decidedly un-predatory. She smiled warmly and slid forward on the bench.

"No, thank you," she said, coming to the end of the seat.

"I'm sorry to disturb you again," he said, reaching an ancient hand up to wipe away a spackling of dirt from his cheeks, "but it's been so long since we've received any visitors. The Lord says to treat others well, so I try to treat whichever others we get as well as I can."

"That's awfully kind," she replied. "It's a shame the rest of the world doesn't."

"Indeed it is," he said, his face turning dark. "Of course, I may simply be indulging myself. The other brothers take their vows of silence so seriously, I hardly get to have a nice conversation anymore. I'd almost forgotten the sound of this old voice."

He sat down on the edge of the pew across from her, his old body groaning as loudly as his throat. He sighed and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe another layer of grime from his withered cheeks. He looked down at the cloth and folded it reverently before placing it back within the folds of his cloak. He looked up at her, mournfully.

"Did you have any others on the train?"

The frankness of the question was sobering. She looked him over once more, noticing that the dirt was not isolated to only his face; his hands were caked with mud, as were his shoes. His robes had streaks of drying soil up and down the front of his belly, and across the portion of cloth that hang over the backs of his legs. Neliel's olive eyes flicked back to the massive pair of doors that led to the outside world and noticed a filthy and weathered shovel leaning against the doorframe.

She turned back to him, his eyes looking into her own with understanding.

"No," she said softly. "Everyone I came with is here in your care." She looked away, down at the sand-littered floor tiles. He remained silent and she could feel his eyes remained upon her. She looked back up and continued. "There was a young girl who I'd seen on the train, but I didn't know her. Did you see her?"

"I did," he said, shaking his head. "I gave her up to the earth; she's been recalled to the Kingdom of Heaven and she sits with the Father." He was smiling up at the fading light that was coruscating through the colored glass above them. He sighed and brought the smile down at her, wryly. "But then, you don't have much of a reason to believe any of that, do you?"

Neliel didn't know how to respond. Of course she couldn't believe this man—she knew from experience that he was wrong. She knew what happened after death. She'd relived it herself. Yet something in her didn't want to correct him. She enjoyed this belief more than the many others which humans possessed; this idea of eternal paradise that she, the Hollow, could only see as foreign and impossible. She wanted to believe that a reward existed for those who did good in life. She wanted to believe that Life's innocents would never have to continue their suffering after death. She wanted to believe that someone, somewhere, was finally going to welcome her home.

But she knew better.

"I would like to believe you," Neliel sighed. She met his eyes, the old pupils regarding her softly if hesitantly, as though she were only humoring him. She strengthened her gaze on him, wordlessly showing her earnestness. "I would really like it if you were right."

He smiled and lowered his head and stood slowly. "Perhaps I'll get you that tea."

He shuffled away slowly and began to speak in a language that her _gigai _did not translate:

"_In paradisum deducant te Angeli: in tuo adventu suscipiant te Martyres, et perducant te in civitatem sanctam Ierusalem. Chorus Angelorum te suscipiat, et cum Lazaro quondam paupere æternam habeas requiem."_

He moved on to other psalms and Neliel brought her legs up to her chest, placed her chin on her knees, and listened to the old man pray for the dead.

* * *

Yumichika walked down the train tracks toward the wreckage, his hands shoved into his pockets. The wind was ripping across the grey valley, the open expanse of the plain giving the breeze ample room to pick up speed before hitting him. He looked up at the smoke that was still steadily rising from behind the bend of the valley, the black pillar growing from the top of the hills until it dissipated into the rapidly darkening sky above. He skipped quickly up onto the left rail and began to walk along it, placing his dirty sneakers one in front of the other along the metal bar as he continued toward the wreckage.

The snow was still falling, but the harsh winds blew the flakes so fast that he couldn't see them at all—his only knowledge of the frozen precipitation's existence came from it hitting him in the face. He desperately wanted to use _shunpo _to get to the train quicker, but he knew better than to attempt calling attention to himself. If that Shinji was correct in predicting Aizen's displeasure and the renegade Shinigami had decided to retaliate already, the last thing Yumichika wanted to do was raise his _reiatsu _levels enough to alert a sentry as to which way to start the search. That would be a quick way to get them in trouble again. Another gust of wind tore across his body, slapping snow up from a bank and into his face. He briefly considered taking the risk and using _shunpo _anyway.

And then the wind was gone. He had turned the bend in the valley and the mountains were now protecting him from the icy gusts. His muscles relaxed and he breathed a breath of relief as he strolled through this significantly less cold portion of the valley. He could now see the wreckage of train ahead him, the twisted metal boxes piled along the side of the track. The snowflakes were dancing gently through the still air as they landed slowly atop the ruined corpse of the train, giving the carnage a façade of beauty as it slowly became coated in pristine white. A small fire flickered inside the second car from the engine, and another form the fifth, a soft glow pulsing out from their ruined windows and onto the ground around the train. The licking flames cast an orange circle over this portion of the valley, the bubble of light growing brighter as the skies fell ever darker around him. He stepped off the rail and walked through the already ankle-deep layer of snow. He approached a string of cars that were on their sides, the closest of which was the car that his room had been in. He reached out to open the door that connected it to a now missing car, but the knob was jammed shut. He approached the next car—the dining car, where he'd been when the train was derailed—and slipped inside through a gash in the metal roof.

It smelled like a mix of garbage and mildew and coffee. He peered through the darkness as he walked atop the overturned tables and upturned benches, his feet searching blindly for safe purchase on furnishings certainly not designed for walking on. He could see that one of the benches had been torn completely away ahead of him, leaving a flat wall for him to use as a better floor. He hopped down and his foot landed on something cylindrical. It rolled out from under his shoe and sent him onto his ass, the offending item flying out and against the wall with a ceramic shatter.

"Son of a bitch," Yumichika hissed as he pushed himself up to his feet, brushing glass from his palms and pants. He walked forward to the door into his cabin's car, looking down at the shattered mug that sat in a pile near the sideway doorframe. He squinted and bent down, reaching a hand into the pile. He pulled up half of a coffee mug and lifted it to the light. It was his hundred-dollar-bill mug.

"Son of a _bitch," _he repeated, knowing full well that it had survived the wreck only to break after he tripped on it. He tossed the ruined handle away and reached his hand up to the askew door above him. He pulled the handle and hoisted himself up into the next car.

He quickly walked to the back of the car where his room had been, the closed doors of the rooms providing a flat surface for his feet. He stepped around a pile of twisted steel and knelt down over the door to room that he and Lisa had been sharing, sliding the door open and lowering himself in. He grabbed his backpack, but Lisa's was missing. She must have already been through here and taken it. Yumichika wondered if she was gone for good. He didn't really care. She was a big girl. He slung his backpack over his shoulders and hopped back up through the doorframe.

Big, round snowflakes were drifting slowly down upon him, speckling his black hair and charcoal jacket with white as they fell from the shattered window of Soi Fon and Neliel's room. With another small display of acrobatics, he leapt up through the missing door. He picked up the women's backpacks and brushed a thin layer of white from them. He looked up through the window at the night sky. He shrugged and tossed the packs up through the open window and onto the side of the train. He hoped that there wasn't anything fragile inside them.

Yumichika quickly followed them out the window and stood atop the sideways train. The clouds above were beginning to thin, even allowing the nearly full gibbous moon to poke its face out through sporadic breaks in the cloud coverage. The glow of the moon reflected blue over the valley by the coat of white snow on the ground. Yumichika grabbed the extra backpacks and hopped down from the top of the train. His left foot landed on a mound of dirt and he almost rolled his ankle inward. He sucked in a breath to let out another curse, but the words shriveled in his mouth as he noticed what he'd almost tripped on.

There were nearly two dozen wooden crosses jutting up from an equal number of fresh graves. Yumichika sighed, his breath coming out in a white cloud, and he stepped off the mound he'd landed on. The blue, snow-covered graveyard held a halcyon atmosphere, the soft whistling of the wind coming around the bend sounding in solitude. He reached out and touched one of the flimsy, makeshift headstones. The splintering wood had obviously been torn from one of the wooden planks between the train rails. Sorrowfully, he thought of Hitomi's body, buried only by snow, all alone in the woods.

"One of the brothers came out and buried them all earlier," Lisa said from behind him. "I'd already performed the soul burials before he showed up. No sense in letting a bunch of confused souls watch their bodies get buried."

He turned and looked at the Vizard. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was red. Yumichika could immediately tell that she'd been crying. Part of him immediately wanted to mock her tears in the same way she'd mocked his when they'd first met, but the rest of his mind held back. What would be the point of that? Why kick her when she's down? She looked pathetic enough right now; a pang of guilt pinched at the base of his heart. He felt bad for regarding her disappearance in so calloused a manner. She was in mourning, and so was he. She and he were in each other's proverbial shoes.

She walked past him, her backpack slung over one shoulder, a nearly empty bottle of vodka held at her side in a loose fist. She turned and leaned against the overturned car and slid down onto the ground, her legs curled up to her chest. She took a swig from her bottle and looked up at him.

"Don't get any ideas," she said, holding the bottle out to him. "I'm not nearly drunk enough to fuck you again."

He chuckled lightly and accepted the bottle before sitting next to her. He could commiserate with her—they'd both had a rough day. Between him seeing Hitomi and her seeing Kyouraku Shunsui, he imagined that neither of them were anywhere near in the mood to bring up their sexual encounter from the night before.

He drank from the bottle, relishing the hot bite of the liquor as he looked out over the makeshift graveyard. He felt that he should properly mourn Hitomi somehow. He hadn't mourned at all when she'd actually died in Brooklyn, unless losing himself in a blur of drunken Hollow-slaughter counted as holding vigil. Now he could, but he didn't feel right. How was he supposed to mourn the woman he'd been too blind to realize he'd loved? How could he respect her memory now if he couldn't respect her when she was by his side?

He swallowed hard as he felt his cheeks get warm in sorrow. He handed the bottle back to Lisa.

"You okay?" he asked, hoping to hide his own grief by talking about hers.

"Don't," she slurred, grabbing the vodka and lifting the bottle to her lips.

"Okay," he said, pulling out his last cigarette. He lit it and took a drag but she snatched it away from him.

"Sorry," she said, exhaling. She sniffled. "It's been a hard day."

"Yeah," he responded. "Same here."

She handed the cigarette back to him. He took a puff and returned it, trading it for the bottle in silence as the snowflakes continued their slow dance to the ground.

"Why?" she asked to the graveyard. "Why are we doing this? Why does it have to be like this?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno," she sighed, her eyes remaining on the valley. "This constant war. Why were _we _chosen to be the protectors of the universe?"

"We're Shinigami," he said, dumbly. "It's what we signed up for."

"And why did you sign up, huh?" she replied, turning to face him. "What else was there for us? To rot in _Rukongai _for eternity?"

"No, I—"

"Then _what?_" she cut him off. "Then what the fuck other choice did we have than to put our hearts on the line only for them to get destroyed?"

He couldn't say anything. She handed him back his cigarette and stood, shouldering her backpack once more, and began to walk back to the monastery. He watched her go, looked up at the stars that were struggling to be seen from behind the clouds, and sighed.

He suddenly stood and spun around, his backpack falling from his shoulder, his fist whipping down to the pommel of his sword. He glanced around quickly, but the moon had crept back behind the clouds. He could only see what was poorly illuminated by the failing fires within the nearby cars. He _felt _someone nearby. It wasn't _reiatsu, _but it was something very close to it. He had felt as though it was right behind him touching the fabric of his jacket. It was shrinking now, a tingling sensation leaving his body as it does a limb upon awakening.

He continued to peer out into the distance, nervously, but he was alone in the dark.

* * *

**_author's note_**

_Oh did I say that the emotional duress was going to be resolved **this **chapter? I must have only meant Hisagi and Lilynette cuz everyone else got stepped on. That's my bad. Some day, one of these chapters will be happy, I promise._

_Big thanks as always to Mr. "Everyone who doesn't loves Neliel must kick puppies" himself, **Jazzpha. **Also to **MatsuMama **for much needed exuberance and encouragement. Go read their stuff if you wanna be enlightened. _

_Thanks to everyone who's reviewed thus far and thanks to everyone who's gonna review in the future. They brighten my day._

**_jta~!_**

**_Ave Maria - Franz Schubert_**

**_Ruined World (Eternal Derelict) - Children of the Monkey Machine_**


	16. Jazz from Hell

_**Jazz from Hell**_

It left a bad taste in his mouth.

Hirako Shinji walked through the _garganta, _languidly strolling atop the white path of spirit particles. Kyouraku Shunsui was just barely ahead of him, Szayel-Aporro Granz, who had regained the strength to walk and the dignity to not be carried, was leading. Shinji eyed them as he walked. He hated the display of aggression he'd just had to go through to save the Arrancar. Parading his power in front of people just wasn't his style, and he especially hated being forced to do it to people he cared about. He'd briefly wondered why Aizen had requested that he go along with Kyouraku to recover Szayel-Aporro, but that question had died once he'd stepped foot into the real world and seen Lisa's anguish. Aizen was trying to provoke Shinji into assisting Soul Society, as if seeing an old ally in one brief moment of despair would be enough to make him break cover.

_That's your problem, Sousuke, _he thought. _You underestimate everyone._

Kyouraku slowed his pace and sidled next to him. "That sure was a close call, wasn't it?" He smiled brilliantly at Shinji, the charisma that spawned legends throughout _Seireitei _beaming on him in full force. "I hope Sousuke-kun isn't too upset that we could only save Szayel-Aporro."

"I'm sure he'll have something to say," Shinji quipped. "He always does."

"As long as he doesn't talk for too long," Kyouraku replied, wistfully. "As soon as we're done here, I've got a bottle of sake calling my name back home."

_When don't you? _Shinji thought as Kyouraku chortled and increased his pace again. Shinji brought the brim of his cap down to cover his eyes, partially, in hopes that it would send a message that he was done with conversation for the rest of the commute. He doubted that Szayel-Aporro had motivation to start chatting, so the message was intended for the former captain. Shinji hated talking to these corrupted Shinigami—Aizen's Vizards—especially Kyouraku Shunsui. He was still the same charming, alluring man he'd always been. Only now, thanks to the mind-numbing powers of the _hougyoku, _he was completely loyal to Aizen. All that power, all that magnetism, held tightly in the palm of Aizen Sousuke.

Shinji slid his hands into his pockets as he looked at their backs, exposed and unprotected. He ignored _Sakanade's _urges to strike them down.

The _garganta _tore itself open in front of them, the meeting room of _Las Noches _appearing on the other side of the black portal. Shinji stepped out and down into the room, his eyes glancing slowly at the faces around him. Aizen sat at the head of the table and Gin hovered over his shoulder, as usual. Aizen's brown eyes shifted over to them, slowly, and he saluted them with a smile. He looked Szayel-Aporro Granz up and down, his piercing gaze running over the still bleeding wounds that marred the Arrancar's body. Szayel-Aporro, to Shinji's approval, did not flinch against the slow and deliberate inspection. Aizen's eyes slid away to the cup of tea in his right hand, his smile remaining.

The Arrancar took a seat at the table, and Kyouraku crossed the room to stand with the rest of the hybrids that Aizen had built. Shinji's eyes followed him as he took up a space against the wall behind Aizen. He looked at the group of half-breeds, their names running through his head as he visually assessed them: Kyouraku Shunsui, Komamura Sajin, Madarame Ikkaku, Kotetsu Isane, Kuchiki Rukia. Shinji had seen each one of them through their hollowfication rites, and he knew firsthand how strong they were. Each one of them was nearly as strong as he was, and they were all under Aizen's unrelenting control.

Then there was Kira Izuru. Shinji's eyes moved over to the sallow face of Ichimaru Gin's bulldog. While the young captain had been put through hollowfication along with the others, he was not under the _hougyoku's _influence as they were. While the orb had had forced them to obey Aizen, it had not simply made them lose their free will; instead, Urahara Kisuke's most diabolical creation caused them to lose a piece of their personalities in order to make room for an unflagging loyalty to Aizen. Ichimaru had convinced Aizen to forgo this step of the process for Kira, stating that his former lieutenant was fiercely protective of him, to the point of aggression, and that to risk losing such a trait would a be horrible idea. Aizen, reluctantly, agreed.

_Ya gotta stop underestimatin' us, _Shinji repeated as he looked at Kira Izuru, the one man in this army whose loyalties did not lie directly with Aizen himself.

The main doors to the room swung open, and the Espada entered. Shinji folded his arms and watched the procession of the Arrancar. Ulquiorra and Grimmjow entered together, near the middle of the pack. The blue-haired Arrancar let out a barking laugh and sat down, his blue eyes and wide smirk focused on the bloodied Szayel-Aporro.

_Jeez, _Shinji thought as Grimmjow openly displayed his delight at Szayel-Aporro's defeat. _Try an' be more subtle, why don't ya?_

Hirako Shinji would have to be blind to miss that Grimmjow Jaggerjaquez and Ulquiorra Cifer were up to something. He had held onto his suspicions for a while—ever since the two of them had been "recruited". Seeing that two Arrancar were fighting alongside Lisa earlier made him cast away his doubts. There was no way that was a coincidence; Grimmjow and Ulquiorra must have orchestrated it somehow. Now that he was more certain of their motives, he could think back and see that it had been obvious the whole time. There was no way that Aizen didn't know it as well.

_There's another one, _he thought as his eyes swept over the table. _Another Espada working with those two_. He didn't know which, and he was fairly certain that was by design. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra must be calling attention to themselves to allow this third to move freely. Shinji hadn't even considered such an idea until this afternoon; there wasn't any other way to explain how well-organized they were in such a short amount of time. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra had only been here for two years and under extreme scrutiny the whole while. Someone else must have been here, in _Las Noches, _planning it before them. Now that he thought about it, any other ideas seemed absurd.

_But which one?_

He glanced at the rest of the Espada. There was the _Primera, _but Shinji couldn't ever get a read on him. He could infer that Starrk was probably bright enough to pull something off behind Aizen's back, but he wasn't sure if the top Espada had the desire to. Shinji doubted it. Then there was Harribel, the woman. She was too quiet to make any assumptions about—Shinji didn't have any reason to believe that she would betray Aizen, but he also had no reason to think that she wouldn't.

Szayel-Aporro Granz he could, fairly confidently, cross off the list.

Barragan, and, transitively, Charlotte Cuuhlhourne, was a bit of a conundrum. The mutual hatred between the _Segunda _and Ulquiorra—and, transitively, Grimmjow—was obvious. Anyone with a working set of ears and eyes could tell that those two despised one another. But Shinji knew that Barragan Luisenbarn hated Aizen. Probably more than he hated Ulquiorra; he wouldn't put it past the former god-king of Hueco Mundo to form an alliance with Ulquiorra simply to kill Aizen. It could be completely possible that their hatred for each other was merely an act. If this was the case, he was deeply impressed.

Regardless, he knew he had at least two allies in the room.

His eyes shifted to everyone, quickly. He suddenly felt horribly vulnerable and outnumbered. If anything were to go wrong right now, he knew that he could kiss his ass goodbye. Aizen's entire fighting force was surrounding him. It would be stupid to consider Grimmjow and Ulquiorra his allies if anything were to go off right now. They would surely gut him without question, if only to get an excuse to play the part of loyal lapdogs. He couldn't blame them. Hell, he'd gladly take the same chance to prove his own apparent allegiance. At this point, the stakes were too high _not _to take that opportunity.

He balled his fists at the ends of his crossed arms, and watched the meeting.

"Szayel-Aporro," Aizen began, "would you explain to us what happened."

"I—" he began, and Grimmjow snickered. Shinji rolled his eyes. The pink-haired Arrancar steeled himself and continued on, retelling the story of the afternoon. Shinji listened idly as Szayel-Aporro spoke; Aizen had sent him and Kyouraku almost immediately after the other mission had departed, to keep watch over the battle. Shinji had seen it all happen with his own eyes. No need to listen to Pinky tell it again.

"Do you find this humorous, Grimmjow?" Aizen asked, interrupting Szayel-Aporro. Shinji looked up at the blue-haired Arrancar. He was leaned back in his chair, one foot propping himself off the table. He looked surprised by the question for a moment, but soon a wry smile crossed his face and he planted the chair and leaned forward.

"Yeah it's funny," he laughed, looking at Aizen. "Since I so nicely stayed behind after the last meeting and asked you to let me go instead, I find it pretty funny that you insisted that _he_ got a shot at it first. And now it looks like you should have sent me. Like I said."

Shinji felt his eyebrows raise in amused surprise as his eyes slid over to Aizen. Surely such a rash display of disrespect could get a rise out of the stiff commander. Aizen didn't look perturbed in the slightest. He raised up his tea, took a sip, and placed it down before addressing his subordinate.

"Then perhaps I can ask for you to offer your assistance once more?"

Grimmjow shrugged and smirked. "I could consider it."

"I need you for an extended mission to the real world," Aizen said, smoothly. Grimmjow's smile faltered in shock. Gin's fell as well, Shinji noted, but in displeasure. The silver-haired lieutenant was barely concealing a glare behind his closed eyes. Ulquiorra allowed both of his emerald eyes to open and he glanced at Grimmjow briefly. The rest of the table shifted as well, their eyes darting from Aizen to Grimmjow. The former Shinigami smiled. "Can I assume you'll accept?"

"You can assume," Grimmjow smirked, coming out of his surprise and resorting to casual sarcasm once more, "that I'll think about it."

"Speak with me after the meeting," Aizen said, composed, turning to Szayel-Aporro. "My apologies. Continue."

_He's gone insane, _Shinji thought as Szayel-Aporro resumed his story. Shinji was still trying to swallow that Grimmjow got away with mouthing off; for Aizen to make the offer he just did was absolutely ludicrous. Surely, Aizen understood that Grimmjow wasn't actually loyal enough to be trusted with so long a leash. His over-confidence had broken his mind. _He's actually lost it._

"And is that all?" Aizen asked.

Szayel-Aporro flicked his eyes over to Starrk and back to Aizen. It was a quick movement. "Yes," he said.

"You forgot about Neliel and Lilynette," Kyouraku Shunsui commented from the side of the room, his tone warm and helpful.

Szayel-Aporro glared at the hybrid. "Yes," he said, his eyes locked with Kyouraku's, "I did." Whatever reservations the scientist had been holding vanished. "Lilynette Gingerback and Neliel Tu Oderschvank are undoubtedly aligned with Soul Society."

_Oh, _Shinji thought, looking at Starrk_. That's who that was. _The _Primera_ made no motion at the news of his other half's betrayal but to close his eyes and lean back against the headrest of his chair. Tia Harribel, Shinji noticed, almost moved to turn to the Espada next to her. Instead, she simply looked at him. There was stressful quality to her teal eyes that Shinji found intriguing; she looked like a rubber band stretched to the point of snapping.

"Is that all?" Aizen asked again, unfazed by this newest revelation.

"Yes."

"Thank you, Szayel-Aporro," Aizen said. "Now, on to something more pressing." He turned to the whole of his Army. "I aim to destroy the remainder of Soul Society before the week's end. To achieve this goal, you will be following me to _Seireitei. Las Noches _is to be abandoned."

"_What?" _hissed Barragan.

"It's only logical," Ulquiorra spoke up. Shinji glanced at him; if he was enjoying taunting the old man, he was hiding it well. "Why should we split our forces unevenly across two dimensions? Consolidating them is the best strategy, both offensively and defensively. I would not expect you to allow sentimentality to get the way of success."

"You watch your mouth, boy," Barragan growled. "Do not forget our rankings." He turned to Aizen, his threats apparently ineffective. "My only concern is that we are missing an opportunity to force Soul Society from splitting their numbers. We've seen how poorly the Shinigami fight when they aren't in a unified group."

"Lord Barragan is right," Charlotte Cuuhlhourne said snarkily, his lips sneering at Ulquiorra. "Wonderweiss was doing fine until they ganged up on him. Shinigami can't even handle us when it's one on one."

"I concede my point," Ulquiorra said after a moment, focusing on the old man across from him. "Partially. You are correct in saying that the Gotei is less efficient in lower numbers. Dividing them into two groups would be a beneficial strategy for us to adopt. Yet we could still achieve the same effect within Soul Society by staggering the placement our soldiers. If we have them patrolling in rings around _Seireitei,_ I would find it remarkable if even one Shinigami made it through to Aizen in the center."

"Brilliant as always," Aizen said, "Ulquiorra." The green-eyed Arrancar did not react to the praise. He closed his eyes against the glares that were coming at him from Barragan.

_Damn, _Shinji thought. _Maybe I was wrong about Ulquiorra. _The advice the green-eyed Espada had given was entirely too effective. If Ulquiorra still considered himself aligned with Soul Society, he would surely understand that he'd just sold his companions down the river, that the advice he'd just given was too good. _Or maybe I was right about Barragan, _he thought, again entertaining the idea that their little spat might have just been for show, even if their theatrics had caused an effective plan to form.

He was glad, however, that the plan was also very simple. If Aizen actually planned around Ulquiorra's ideas, it would be easy for Shinji's own group of Vizards to attack whenever the tides began to turn. Perhaps they could even change the entire momentum of the battle by striking at a precise moment. His mind began to race with strategies.

"If there are no further concerns," said Aizen, so politely, and stood. "I will see you all in Soul Society by tomorrow morning. Grimmjow, follow me."

The pack of Espada stood and began to exit the room. Shinji watched them go, studying their reactions to this meeting. If he could possibly get a feel for their opinions on this plan, he might be able to work that into his own. Ulquiorra was blank. He didn't even look over his shoulder at his departing companion. Barragan was also underwhelming. Neither of them seemed to be in the ecstasy of victory, nor the throes of defeat. Starrk, however, moved with a quicker pace than Shinji had ever though him capable. Harribel followed him out, cautiously but obviously. Her sense of urgency, which seemed linked to Starrk's, was more restrained.

"Szayel-Aporro Granz," Aizen said as the pink-haired Espada attempted to sneak out without further scrutiny. Szayel-Aporro stopped and looked at Aizen, his jaw clenched tightly. Aizen's smile did not waver. "Do not fail me again."

The Arrancar departed without so much as a nod. Shinji pushed himself from his wall and followed Aizen and Grimmjow down the corridor, _Sakanade _once more calling his attention to their exposed backs. He silenced her; he was curious about something now. He followed them around a curve and nearly into Aizen's quarters, hoping to remain a fly on the wall for a just little while longer.

Ichimaru Gin rushed past him and Grimmjow, darted into Aizen's room, and shoved the heavy door shut behind him. Shinji snickered and leaned against the wall. Apparently, he'd been right about Ichimaru's displeasure earlier. Grimmjow squatted down and leaned against the opposite wall. Shinji wasn't looking at him directly, but he could make him out clearly in his peripheral vision. He could see that the blue-haired Arrancar was flicking his eyes over to him, once in every four seconds. Roughly. Shinji hoped he had something to say.

"I know about you," Grimmjow said, appeasing the Vizard far earlier than hoped. "Vizards."

"Oh?" Despite himself, he was smiling.

"Yeah," Grimmjow replied. "I know you're pulling Lisa Yadomaru's strings. It ain't hard to assume the rest of you aren't in on it, too."

"Ya got me."

"Yep."

"Then might I rightfully blame you an' Ulquiorra for the _Primera's _betrayal?"

"Nah, that started before we got here."

_So I was right, _Shinji grinned. "Barragan," he stated aloud.

Grimmjow knotted his eyebrows and looked at Shinji for a second. He then let out a high, short laugh.

"I bet you thought you were doin' real good up 'til now," said Grimmjow, still chuckling, "huh?"

Shinji laughed, only slightly upset that he had to throw out his entertaining theory. "Yeah I guess I did. Harribel, then?"

Grimmjow smirked, but remained silent.

"So if the time comes, can I trust you three?" Shinji asked, his tone losing its playfulness.

"If the time comes," Grimmjow said, looking into the shorter man's eyes, "we'll see."

The door flew open and Ichimaru Gin stalked out, his shoulder slamming into Shinji's as he rushed past them in the hallway. The Vizard let out a laugh and turned to face the retreating Shinigami.

"Hey!" Shinji barked tauntingly. "There ain't no reason to act like that now, is there?"

Ichimaru Gin stopped and turned to face him, his blue eye glaring over his shoulder. Shinji's smile fell; he knew that Gin was agitated. Whatever had been discussed behind that closed door was more than enough to irritate the usually unshakable Ichimaru. Shinji kept his gaze on those icy irises for a moment before he surrendered and averted his eyes. Messing with his former adjunct right now would be like poking a hissing snake. Shinji was in too good a mood to get himself bit.

"Can I help you, Hirako?" Aizen asked from the open door. Shinji turned. Grimmjow was already inside the room. Shinji's smile grew as he looked at Aizen.

"I was just wonderin' if you were gonna needed me for anythin' else before I head on back to Soul Society."

"No," Aizen said, closing the door. "I am quite finished with you, Hirako Shinji."

_Good, _Shinji thought as he walked away.

* * *

Grimmjow watched the door close and he turned away, into the room. A feeling of relief washed over him—it was good to know that they could use the Vizards if things played out right. At this point in his strategy, after jettisoning four members at the last second, they needed all the help they could find. If the Vizards could provide any assistance at all, they would be in much better shape.

He dropped down into one of the two white chairs that stood erect in front of Aizen's desk. He sat casually, one leg fully extended and resting on a heel, his left elbow holding his hand holding his head. He watched Aizen expectantly, almost impatiently. He'd discovered that Aizen Sousuke reacted well to his brashness, though he had no real idea why. Ulquiorra supposed that since Aizen's poised and calm persona was so great, his only response to Grimmjow's brash behavior was to retreat into it deeper, becoming calmer as his opponent grew more irate.

Grimmjow disagreed with that analysis. The way he figured it, Aizen just didn't want to blow his cool in front of people. This thought, though he retained his brazen attitude, was making Grimmjow nervous. If Aizen was worried about everyone else seeing him lose it, then the mission to the real world might have been a lie to bring Grimmjow in his office and lose it behind closed doors. Grimmjow had never seen Aizen get angry before, but he assumed it would involve someone getting killed.

Grimmjow hoped that he was wrong.

Aizen calmly walked to his seat, but remained standing next to it. He was looking the other way, toward the window. His hand rested on the headrest of the tall chair. Grimmjow sat and waited for a while in silence—if Aizen was trying to calm himself, or even slightly diminish his desire for punishment, Grimmjow wasn't about to talk him away from it. He still didn't know everything about how the enigmatic man's mind worked—he doubted that anyone did—but he'd known Aizen long enough to learn that interrupting the man before he'd made his point was a mistake.

Aizen Sousuke turned and faced him, smiling. "There is something that has been bothering me, Grimmjow Jaggerjaquez," he began, walking to the far side of the room. "I am a man who has always been deeply intrigued by puzzles."

Aizen approached a door that was along the wall, coaxing it open to reveal a small servant Arrancar, holding a pot of tea on a white tray. Grimmjow restrained a bestial snarl as the nameless Hollow slid across the room. He despised those things; he thought that they were weak and useless little creatures, existing for the sole purpose of skittering around Aizen's feet. Considering the large number of Hollow that he'd been forced to exterminate over the past two years, Grimmjow was pissed that they'd been exempt from slaughter. The plain-masked monster placed the tray on Aizen's desk, poured two cups, and scooted back through its door. Aizen let the panel close.

"And as a man deeply intrigued by puzzles," he continued, walking back to his desk, "I have become staggeringly effective at solving them. Each that I explain only awakens a deeper thirst for another." He approached the desk and stood in front of his chair and grinned placidly at Grimmjow. He held out his left hand. "Please, have some tea."

Grimmjow didn't move for a moment, his brilliant eyes studying the smiling face of the man in front of him. He looked down at the green handle of Aizen's zanpakuto, and at the placement of his right hand, his sword hand, at his waist. Grimmjow looked back up to see that Aizen's smile hadn't wavered. He clicked his tongue and leaned forward, taking the warm cup into his hands. He rested back in the chair as Aizen himself smiled and took a seat. He did not take a cup of his own.

"Yet despite my propensity for solving such riddles, I have come to one that I can't seem to find the answer to." His smile fell slightly, very slightly. "And it's beginning to irritate me." His lips curved back up fully and remained silent. Grimmjow allowed the silence to pass, his tea untouched.

Aizen continued. "My desire to solve this puzzle is still as indefatigable as it ever was, but my patience with it grows thin. I would like for you to take leave into the real world and help me unravel it."

"This sounds more like Ulquiorra's deal," Grimmjow said, leaning forward and placing his mug of tea on the floor, hidden slightly by his leg and the chair's. He slid it back with his heel, hiding it further. Aizen didn't seem to notice. "Why don't ya send him?"

"I said I would like for you to do it," Aizen repeated, his tone terse.

Grimmjow waited a moment. "Who am I looking for?"

Aizen chuckled. "Very astute. I am indeed looking for a specific individual," he sat back into his large chair. "But I am still unaware of their identity."

"Then what good am I gonna be?" Grimmjow asked, resisting the urge to suggest Ulquiorra again; Aizen had made it clear that the Espada had very little choice in how this meeting would be decided.

"I have located where this person is," Aizen said. "Roughly. I have reason to believe they'll be wearing a _gigai _which either muffles _reiatsu _or erases it completely."

"So you think it's a Shinigami?" Grimmjow asked, scratching the corner of his eye with a single fingernail. His curiosity was now very much aroused.

"Perhaps," Aizen replied. "Or something else entirely. I'm almost certain Urahara Kisuke is somehow involved."

Grimmjow smirked. "Then what do you need me to do?"

"I was hoping you would ask that very question." Aizen's smile widened, turning genuine for the first time. "I need you to find this problem for me, and resolve it."

"So you just need me to be on the ground, eh?"

"And solve the puzzle."

"How'm I supposed to sneak up on someone I can't feel?"

"When were you under the assumption that my _gigai _were inferior to Urahara Kisuke's?"

Grimmjow's smirk deepened. "Then I'd say we have an agreement."

"Excellent," Aizen said, standing. "I shall have the _gigai _and your instructions brought to your quarters immediately. Leave within the hour."

Grimmjow stood and looked at Aizen for a moment, studying his posture, his distance, his position in the room, and turned away. He walked to the door and pulled it open, his mind racing.

"It is quite a shame you didn't try your tea, Grimmjow," Aizen said. Grimmjow looked over his shoulder as Aizen lifted his cup from the floor. He took a sip and placed it on the desk. "It's simply wonderful."

* * *

Shinji stepped out of the _garganta _and into Soul Society.

He closed the portal and moved through the nearly vacant halls of the Ninth Division, his nostrils flaring slightly as he smelled the grill from the courtyard. Much of _Seireitei_ was empty—Aizen had disposed of most of the Shinigami that had survived the initial siege two years ago. Those that had rejected his rule were imprisoned and, with very rare exceptions, executed; those that had agreed to follow him—mostly Ichimaru's recruits from the Maggot's Nest—were used as soldiers in the first attack on the King. Shinji saw that as a form of execution in itself, only with the horror of false-hope to fuel the poor souls on their way to the gallows.

On the plus side, that meant that their old divisions were free to be used to their liking. As morbid as that line of thinking was, Shinji justified it by telling himself that it couldn't be helped. 'Aizen does what Aizen will do,' was an understanding that everyone in this army had acquired long ago. Which is why nobody was surprised when he took up residence in the First Division.

It was nice being in the Fifth again, but he couldn't shake a niggling sense of regret while within its walls. Or remorse, he wasn't sure which. Something about being in his old division while Aizen was still breathing made his stomach writhe. The old halls and corners and rooms each held a memory of himself and some Shinigami he'd never see again. Every day he would wake with the feeling. He could normally shake it within a few hours, but he still always woke in misery.

Which is exactly why he didn't spend much time in there. Even though it was Mashiro's duty to cook dinner tonight, hence why he was in the Ninth in the first place, he'd still be inviting everyone to someone else's division if it were his. He'd tried at first to use Love's, but the black Vizard had quickly put an end to allowing Shinji to make a mess of his kitchen. Shinji usually picked the fourth because it was next-door and still empty on the inside.

And he still held some very good memories in those gardens.

Shinji took a turn and headed toward Kensei's room, hoping that his old friend might still be in it. Usually when Mashiro was cooking, Kensei took up residence behind her to make sure she knew about every mistake that she made on the grill. And, of course, she did the same to him. It was somewhat of a game for the rest of them to place bets on which of the two made the most "mistakes" in a given night.

Shinji slid open Kensei's door to find himself in luck; a fully nude Muguruma Kensei waited for him.

"You're back already?" the exposed Vizard asked as Shinji stepped in. "Didn't think you'd be back in time for the charred meat. I mean dinner."

"Well, why're ya lettin' her char it?" Shinji joked and sat down, undisturbed by his companion's nakedness. Muguruma Kensei had no shame in his nudity, and never paused before doffing his pants in front of others. It was simply another strange something that Shinji had been forced to get used to over the years. "I coulda assumed ya'd at least be out there coachin' her."

"I had to shower," he said, strutting out of the room. "I needed to blow off some steam earlier. Hang tight while I get dressed and I'll walk over there with you."

_Blowing off steam_ was what Kensei called it whenever he spent an afternoon in the _Zaraki _district, demolishing hovels and destroying houses. The rougher areas of _Rukongai _were deserted; Aizen had made sure that the meaner streets were cleared of their violence. In what had, possibly, been a final testing of loyalty, Aizen had bade them go out and eliminate any strong source of _reiatsu _that wouldn't align with him. Still desperate to prove themselves worthy of his trust, the Vizards had been Aizen's storm troopers, and they had been extremely efficient.

Incidentally, that very task was usually why Kensei blew off steam.

Shinji leaned back in the chair and kicked a sneaker up onto Kensei's desk. "How'd the meeting go?" Kensei asked from the other room.

"Ah, ya know," Shinji said. "Sousuke bein' Sousuke."

"What's he trying to do now?" was the reply.

"Long story. I'll get inta it after I eat," Shinji replied, kicking his other foot up and knocking off a stack of papers. "Ah damn," he muttered as he leaned down to retrieve the fallen leaflets. He placed them back on the desk and noticed an envelope from the real world. The return address was written in Portuguese. His curiosity, being inclined to arousal, skyrocketed. Who was sending Kensei letters? Was it Lisa? Why would she send Kensei something instead of him? Where in the hell was she that she needed to write in Portuguese?

These questions very swiftly overwhelmed Shinji's respect for privacy and he snatched the envelope up from the desk and slipped it into his jacket pocket as Kensei reappeared into the room, dressed. "Ready?" he asked.

"Yeah," Shinji said, grinning, following Kensei out and toward the Ninth's courtyard.

The sun was getting close to setting, filling the square of sky with splashes of orange, red, and purple. Hiyori, Hachi, Love, and Rose were all sitting at the old wooden table, loudly bickering about recipes. There was soft music leaking out of a record player near their feet. It was _his _record player, too. Mashiro was standing in front of the grill with a pair of tongs jutting up from her fist, balled and planted on her hip, and a scowl on her face. Shinji grabbed a plate and walked up to her.

"Sorry we're late," he said, holding out his plate in a mockery of an impoverished child. "May I please be fed?"

"No, _you're_ fine," she said, placing a strip of pork on his platter. "Kensei-dummy promised he'd be back before I started."

"Oh," said Shinji, muffled, the tenderloin already sticking out of his mouth. He bit and held it in a hand, pointing it at Mashiro. "Ya should really give him a hard time about it, too."

He strolled away as the two of them began to bicker, quickly scooping up a helping of rice and vegetables. He walked past the table where everyone was sitting. He kicked one of the wooden legs and walked past.

"Nice a' y'all to save me a seat," he chided, waving his hand over his head. "And put my record player back where ya found it."

"Yeah, well," Love joked after him, "don't be late next time."

"You can deal with Aizen then," Shinji growled under his breath. He strolled over to the rock garden that Mashiro had started two captains ago. He sighed and looked at it, thinking of how much time had passed since he'd been one of this city's greats. As cliché as the phrase was, it did feel like yesterday to him sometimes. He hopped up onto a stone at the perimeter, crossed his legs, and removed from his breast pocket the letter that had been on Kensei's desk. He placed his elbow on his knee and held the pork strip in front of his mouth. He liked to read while he ate.

"Yo," Hiyori said, interrupting him before he could begin. She was standing near his rock, her arms in their normal places around her chest. "How'd it go?"

He frowned at her. "Piece a' cake," he said, childishly sticking the pork out of his mouth while he spoke. "Sousuke's got somethin' in mind for the weekend. Doin' somethin' with Grimmjow too, but I don't see that messin' us up at all. Oh," he exclaimed, pulling the meat out of his mouth, "that reminds me—I was right about Grimmjow an' Ulquiorra."

"Really?" she said, rolling her eyes. "I'm so surprised."

"Apparently Harribel, too," he said, ignoring her snark. "They got a whole thing workin' over there." He turned back to the letter. "I'll get inta it later with everyone else. Now scram, I'm tryin'a read this."

"I'm done eating," she said. "And those baldies are startin' to bug me."

"Then sit here, or somethin'," he said, looking down swiftly and unfolding the letter to make his point. "But let me read." She scoffed and sat down with her back against the squat boulder he was sitting on. She crossed her legs and her arms and she shut her eyes. He reached down and ruffled her hair with a sigh.

"You better not be rubbing my hair with yer porkgrease," Hiyori growled.

"I ain't."

They had formed something of a romantic relationship over their time together in the last century, but the past two years had all but torn it to shreds. He still liked being affectionate towards her, though. He reasoned that it felt more natural, still being her friend after all this time, than for them to suddenly hate each other. He tousled her hair once more and brought his hand up to the letter, holding it in the failing light.

Despite the envelope's information being in Portuguese, the letter was in sloppy kanji. It was short and unsigned. It said:

"_I'll be heading home soon. _

_I hope you're ready."_

Shinji read it again, trying to recognize the handwriting. It wasn't Lisa's at all. After a third reading, he realized that he'd never seen such atrocious penmanship before. With a huff, he stood up from the boulder and left his food behind as he stalked across the courtyard. "Where ya goin' dickhead?" Hiyori barked but he ignored her. He marched up to the grill, where Kensei and Mashiro were eating together. He looked down and saw that the fire was still burning beneath the iron slats.

"Mashiro, ya left the grill on," Shinji said with exaggerated exasperation, holding up the letter. The other two Vizards looked up at him, their faces falling as they recognized the envelope in his hand. He dropped it onto the grill and it was quickly alight. He kept his eyes trained on them as he spoke. "But I'm sure y'all were plannin' to burn that anyway, right?"

Neither of them said anything. Shinji stuck his hands in his pockets and allowed half of a smile. He wasn't trying to be imposing. He wasn't upset at them for keeping secrets from him, and he was only _marginally _upset that they hadn't included him in this scheme of theirs. The only thing cared about now was their information. Which he wasn't going to get with them giving him the silent treatment.

"Who was that from?" he asked.

After a moment of silence, Mashiro sighed and looked around at the courtyard; when she was certain that no one was around, she leaned forward and told Shinji who had penned the letter.

And Hirako Shinji laughed.

* * *

**_author's note_**

_two chapters in two weeks? WELL I NEVER. __consider it a 'thank you' to all of you who wait so patiently between updates._

_speaking of updates, i'm going to try and get out two a month for the rest of the story. keep the pacing up and all that. don't hold me to that too strictly, though._

_thanks to **jazzpha **as always. _

**_reviews _**_are always appreciated!_

**_jta!~_**

**_Jazz from Hell - Frank Zappa_**


	17. Rubies, Pearls, and Emeralds

_**Rubies, Pearls, and Emeralds**_

Ulquiorra stood from the meeting table, his emerald eyes downcast, his back stiff as he walked. He didn't turn to watch Grimmjow follow Aizen away—he didn't need to see the two men to make his assessment: if Aizen was making an honest offer, Grimmjow wouldn't be able to refuse it. His companion was being given free rein in the material world; Ulquiorra knew that Grimmjow would break away immediately to search for Soi Fon. He would be astonished if his friend did anything else. Grimmjow knew where she was at this very moment, and if he couldn't find her in-transit, he knew her ultimate destination. It would be ludicrous to assume that he would do anything other than attempt to find her.

Which brought him to the part of this plan that _didn't _make sense: why would Aizen allow Grimmjow such freedom? While Ulquiorra was confident in their plans having heretofore remained secret, he wasn't about to fool himself into thinking that Aizen didn't have well-developed suspicions about Grimmjow—one of which must certainly be that Grimmjow still held loyalty to Soi Fon, even if he'd truly betrayed Soul Society. His little stunt yesterday—bellowing at Aizen, promising to kill Soi Fon if ordered to—had been effective only because of his obvious attachment to her. Aizen hadn't bought the assertion of loyalty then, but he seemed to now and it was vexing Ulquiorra terribly.

He stepped into the hall and watched as the Espada dispersed through the building, the group drifting to their own destinations like yellow leaves tumbling along an autumn sidewalk. Ulquiorra eyed them all, his focus skipping from one Arrancar to the next until it settled on the retreating back of Tia Harribel. Ulquiorra left his eyes on her a moment as she cautiously trailed Starrk through the white-tiled halls. Ulquiorra felt sorry for the both of them—he assumed that for Starrk, hearing Szayel-Aporro speak of Lilynette's betrayal must have been devastating. He did not have to assume the same for Harribel—he knew her opinion on that news was not going to be a good one. Everything seemed to be falling apart around her now. Him as well. Lilynette and Neliel had been discovered, Aizen was moving too quickly for them to efficiently adjust, and now Grimmjow was most likely leaving them. Their work was beginning to unravel, their plans showing the first signs of fatal phthisis.

Ulquiorra sighed and looked back into the room, now empty with the exception of Kira Izuru hovering around Aizen's hallway. Ulquiorra eyed the blonde-haired hybrid and slipped his hands into his pockets, closed his eyes, and walked away.

He couldn't blame Grimmjow. Ulquiorra wanted to feel betrayed by the decision he knew Grimmjow would soon make—an odd emotion to experience, the desire for betrayal—but Ulquiorra knew better than to fight against it. Just as Aizen knew that Grimmjow still longed for Soi Fon, Ulquiorra knew as well. Better. Ulquiorra had seen his two friends fall in love and be in love for a quarter of a century. He'd seen the torment that their separation had caused for Grimmjow, the schism that Ulquiorra had forced upon them. He hadn't know about Harribel's plan when he'd decided to take Starrk's offer back during the siege, so he'd felt a need to force Grimmjow into joining him in _Las Noches. _He knew he'd need Grimmjow's assistance, even if it meant forcing him by threatening Soi Fon's life.

Ulquiorra knew that he did not deserve to feel betrayed by Grimmjow. He was upset at his friend's impending departure, but his heart was not filled with grief. It was instead washed over with relief. For the past two years he'd felt guilt whenever he saw Grimmjow's suffering. Ulquiorra could only stand idle and without the ability to comfort, watching, his eyes closed and his hands in his pockets as his friend mourned the loss of his lover and remorse twisted silently within his gut. Now, as his friend was about to right that great wrong, he felt alleviated. For the first time in a long time, Ulquiorra Cifer was at peace.

Now his only problem was merely a loss for words. Even if he wanted to approach Grimmjow, to wish him ill or well, he had no idea of what he could say to his friend. He never much liked words, words that described emotion. He rarely used them for just this reason. He could lay out battle plans without issue; the calm, objective, analytical machinations of strategy came to his lips instantly. Yet his mind could never frame for him the ways of describing feelings and emotions, matters of the deeper brain and the heart. If he indeed decided to approach Grimmjow, it would only be to discuss fear and happiness and guilt and loneliness. Ulquiorra had no words for those emotions; without them what could he even say to Grimmjow?

Ulquiorra turned and entered the stairwell and began to descend from the top floor of the tower. He'd chosen to take the back stair instead of the main, hoping for solitude as he returned to his quarters. He'd purposefully lagged behind to ensure that none of the other Arrancar would walk the same path as he, and he was rewarded with his desired privacy. He needed isolation to think. He walked stiffly down the steps, bars of light from the slatted windows hitting his face every half rotation in the spiraling stair. He kept his eyelids shut lightly, his mind calming itself by counting each step silently, guiding his feet sightlessly over the repetitive floor until he reached the middlemost level of the tower, his level. He stopped on the platform that kept him from the main hallway, his emerald eyes looking out the final taller window that was carved out of the wall. There was a single, wide, charcoal-colored cloud in the blue dome of _Las Noches. _Never before had Ulquiorra seen anything other than perfect white in the artificial sky of the palace; he found it disquieting that it could change so suddenly and in so ominous a fashion, as though the black cloud could portend the fate of those that walked beneath it.

Ulquiorra exited from the stairwell and into his hallways. He slipped his hands back into their pockets and stepped around a small corner, leading to the massive, column-filled anteroom and stairway that led up to his quarters. He made to close his eyes again when a figure took up the frame of the door at the top of the steps, standing rotund and silhouetted against the light that poured into the room. The light that was not blocked by the body was instead stopped by the blades of a massive axe. There was a grumbling, gravelly chuckle from the summit of the stairs.

"I can understand the reasons behind such outright intimidation," Ulquiorra said as he looked up at Barragan Luisenbarn, "but carrying your arrogance out in the open seems too lowly an act for royalty."

The chuckling stopped. "You think you're clever, eh boy?"

Ulquiorra closed his eyes and remained silent.

"You'll find yourself sorely mistaken, then," the _Segunda _resumed, "if you think Aizen hasn't seen through your plan to help Soul Society."

"I don't know you mean."

"That insipid little strategy you just gave him," Barragan replied with a snort. "Form rings around _Seireitei?_ The Shinigami would find a way through that in a heartbeat."

"I was only trying to assist Aizen."

His heart sank as Barragan reached out a bulky hand and tossed a pile of papers out into the room, the white sheets scattering and drifting to the blue tiles like giant snowflakes. Ulquiorra watched them flutter for a moment, white and brilliant as they landed on the staircase, before he returned his eyes to Barragan. The two Espada remained silent for a few seconds, their eyes fixed on one another.

"You know what those are," Barragan grumbled, "don't you, boy?"

"Of course I do," Ulquiorra replied. "I know what each of my possessions is."

"Then I suppose you've got a good reason for having written down a list of Shinigami locations in the real world?"

"Tracking."

"Tracking, eh?" Barragan asked with another chuckle. He went down the first of the steps, his massive axe lifted onto his shoulder, the crimson eyeball between its blades open and focused intently on Ulquiorra. The former king of Hueco Mundo descended the stairs, his sandals falling upon the scattered papers quietly. "I find that very difficult to believe, boy."

"Believe what you like," Ulquiorra said, looking past his adversary and into the door behind him; he couldn't see over the edge of the steps, but he could imagine that his room had been trashed in order to find such well hidden scraps of his planning. "I know there is no amount of evidence that could sway you."

"That's not a nice thing to assume," Barragan replied, with another wheezing laugh. "Are you telling me I am an unfair king?"

"Of course not," Ulquiorra replied as Barragan reached the bottom of the stairs. "You are no longer a king."

Barragan's smile fell to a grimace, as if Ulquiorra's words had entered his mouth instead of his ears and had carried with them a bitter taste. The larger man hefted the axe from his shoulder and held it across his chest with two hands. Ulquiorra's eyes slid along the weapon quickly—he'd never seen Barragan grip the zanpakuto with both hands before. Ulquiorra knew that his words had hit home, hard. his own right hand slid out from its pocket halfway, ready.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rat you out to Aizen right now," Barragan growled, his knuckles white as they held the axe.

"Perhaps to refrain from embarrassing yourself," Ulquiorra responded swiftly. "Anything you've found within my chambers is old enough to be considered obsolete information. Would you really bring that before Aizen in hopes of…?" Ulquiorra paused and blinked. "In fact, I couldn't begin to fathom why you would wish to please that man."

"His satisfaction is secondary to your destruction," he replied, taking a step forward. "Or haven't you figured that out yet, boy?"

Ulquiorra sighed and made to turn around. He had no desire to fight Barragan right now, if for the only reason was to refrain from getting himself killed. If he were to die here, then Harribel would truly be alone in _Las Noches. _All of their planning, all of their sacrifices would have been for nothing. He could not abide that, even if it meant submitting to Barragan. He turned, showing his back, and walked away.

A blade stuck hard into the pillar next to him, attached to it a tan arm. Charlotte Cuuhlhourne snickered down at Ulquiorra, his full lips turned up in a sneer as he blocked the shorter Arrancar's path to exit. He also held a stack of Ulquiorra's old plans in his free hand.

"Goin' somewhere, Ulquiorra?" Charlotte asked, the joy at breaking rank evident in his eyes.

"If you can't find a reason for me to not inform Aizen," Barragan said, taunting and gruff, causing Ulquiorra to face to his approaching enemy, "then at least give me a reason why we shouldn't crush you right here, right now."

Ulquiorra watched Barragan take another slow step forward. His opponent was being cautious; even with the assistance of Charlotte, Barragan was still unsure of Ulquiorra's abilities. The green-eyed Arrancar remained calm as the distance between them closed. He looked over his shoulder at Charlotte, noting that the feminine Arrancar was still holding his arm out to keep him from retreating. Ulquiorra was sandwiched between the king and his jester. He sighed and moved his hand across to the _katana _at his waist, gripping the pommel and sliding it slowly, noiselessly, out of its scabbard.

He suddenly snapped his head to the left, a flash of light screaming past his cheek and over his shoulder. Everything moved in slowed motion, his raven-black hair trailing behind, remaining where his head had been as the beam severed the lagging strands. He heard Charlotte screech behind him as Barragan spun out of the way of the shaft of light. And then it was gone, dark, back the way it came. Ulquiorra spun around and looked at Charlotte Cuuhlhourne; the Arrancar was on his knees, gripping at the bleeding remains of his right shoulder, a pool of blood spreading from the wound, staining his white clothing, covering the now scattered sheets of paper he'd been holding. The rest of his arm was still gripping lifelessly to the sword stuck in the column.

"Ah, that's no good," Ichimaru Gin said menacingly as he emerged from the shadowy depths of the antechamber. "I was aimin' ta skewer all three a' ya."

Ulquiorra slowly backed away from where Charlotte was kneeling and groaning, no longer worried about Barragan Luisenbarn at his back. He looked at Gin's face, carefully inspecting the lines and curves of the Shinigami's eyes and lips. His smile was twisted up in a perversion of his normal grin; the cool and unsettling smile that was his trademarked visage was gone, replaced now by one that was cruel and intense and vicious. Ulquiorra knew, with one look at that face, that his enemy was no longer standing behind him.

"Ichimaru," Barragan growled and took a step forward. Ulquiorra saw him lift the axe slightly from the corner of his eye. He had abandoned his own zanpakuto when Gin had attacked, choosing to leave it in the sheath in order to dodge Ichimaru's sword. Ulquiorra wrestled against the urge to pull his _katana_, forcing his hand back into its pocket. He watched Gin with hypervigilance—he felt like a rabbit in the glare of a viper, frozen in hopes that the serpent in front of him would overlook its prey.

"Explain yourself, Ichimaru," Barragan demanded with another careful step.

Gin snapped his elbow forward and pointed _Shinsou _at Barragan. The old Arrancar stopped immediately as he found himself looking down the length of the second most feared blade in Hueco Mundo. Ulquiorra relaxed a little, hoping that Gin's indiscernible eyes were also focused on the grey-haired man. Gin's smile grew, amusement slightly overtaking hostility, and he leaned forward to pick up one of the numerous leaflets that had been scattered about the tiles. He lifted it to his face and read it for a moment, ignoring the blood that dripped from its lower half and onto his sandals. His smile grew again and he tossed the sheet back to the ground.

"Nothin' Aizen didn't know already," he said, almost to himself, his focus remaining on Barragan. "I certainly hope ya weren't gonna waste his time with any a' that stuff?"

Charlotte's severed arm finally lost its grip on the sword in the pillar and fell to the ground, landing in the crimson pool with a slimy splash. Its owner whimpered and scrambled forward across the tiles to retrieve it, reaching out his remaining hand, trembling and pale, to grab the limb. Another blade slammed into the floor between the disconnected hands, sending chunks of blue tile up into Charlotte's face. He yelped and hopped backwards and landed on his side, barely propped up by his remaining arm. Kira Izuru stood over him, _Wabisuke's _tip blocking the Arrancar from retrieving the lost arm.

"Nuh-uh-uh," Gin tittered as he took his zanpakuto from Barragan and aimed it at Charlotte. "Ya don't get that back unless ya earn it." Gin turned his head to the zanpakuto in the stone, his _wakizashi _still leveled at the Arrancar on the ground. He gripped _Reina de Rosas _and tugged it from the pillar. He looked the blade over once, in a mockery of longing, and chucked it at its owner. It clattered across the floor and hit Charlotte in the leg. Gin's grin focused on the Espada's face once more. "Ya ready to earn it?"

Charlotte grabbed the blade and stood, retreating backwards, awkwardly fumbling with the sword in his left hand as he attempted to sheathe it. He finally managed to put it away and stumbled behind his king, his remaining arm again squeezing the severed stump at his shoulder. Barragan glowered, his good eye bulging in frustration as it swiveled from Gin to Kira to Ulquiorra. He finally focused on the emerald-eyed Arrancar.

"This isn't over, boy," he spat. "This isn't over."

He disappeared in a buzz of _sonído, _the ripping sound causing his abandoned subordinate to squeal in shock. Charlotte Cuuhlhourne flicked his eyes once more upon the men surrounding him, his useless arm that Kira hunched over like a buzzard, and followed his master into invisibility. Gin turned his grin upon Ulquiorra, the tip of _Shinsou _swinging with it. Gin settled on him for a moment before he slid his zanpakuto into the scabbard hidden in his robes. He looked down at the arm on the floor and his smile leveled.

"Izuru, why don't ya bring that thing to poor ol' Szayel-Aporro to tinker with? He's had a rough day, after all."

"Yes, Captain Ichimaru," Kira replied dully, grabbing the arm obediently, and vanishing with a whisper. Gin turned back to Ulquiorra, the toe of his sandal kicking one of the papers into the darkening pool of blood. His grin widened.

"I'm sure ya can take care of this mess on yer own," he said to Ulquiorra, turning to depart. "I'd hate to see what Captain Aizen would make a' such clutter. Wouldn't ya agree?"

"Of course," Ulquiorra replied calmly, his eyes focused intently on the back of Gin's retreating head.

"Oh an' another thing," Gin said, turning his face over his shoulder. His smile, that unnervingly pleasant grin, was back in full force. "If ya were plannin' on talkin' ta Grimmjow before he leaves, ya might wanna hurry."

* * *

Harribel was going to explode. She leapt up from her chair and followed Starrk out of the room, ignoring the rest of the Espada as she walked behind him. She slowed down a few paces, following him more slowly, keeping her distance without losing sight of him. She knew him well enough to guess where he was going, but she also reasoned that the news of Lilynette's betrayal might cause him to act more than a bit out of the ordinary. So far, he was still making for his room but she didn't want to lose him around a corner.

She snarled inwardly as she recalled Szayel-Aporro's declaration. The memory was so fresh that it sent recurring waves of dread through her body, her heart again plunging coldly as her emotional response repeated. She'd wanted to scream almost immediately after the pink-haired Espada had spoken; now the feeling only multiplied in the solitude within her head. The probability of Starrk discovering Lilynette's betrayal had always been high—considering the closeness between the two of them, Harribel was honestly surprised that he was still clueless as to her motives.

Regardless, neither of the two women had wanted him to find out under circumstances outside their own. Lilynette herself had plans to fix this problem: by rendezvousing with the Espada in India, she would attempt to reason with him before the final battle began. Unfortunately, things had changed and that plan had ceased to be a viable option. Harribel now wished she'd listened to her companion's pleas back then; if only she'd tried to do something to prepare Starrk for this news, like had Lilynette wanted, they wouldn't be where they are now.

This was all because of carelessness, but they'd decided not to worry over Starrk, and his importance in their mission's outcome had been overlooked. He always seemed to care so little about everything, Harribel hadn't even calculated in how important he was to their success. She had always assumed that Lilynette would be successful in converting him to their side, but she'd never thought of when or how. If Starrk now decided to fight against them—out of spite or for want of vengeance—they would be severely disadvantaged. She growled at herself again. These were all things that could have been easily avoided if it weren't for her own laxness in planning, her own laziness. Starrk's indefatigable loyalty to Aizen had always been a hurdle that she knew she would have to jump, but she'd hoped that the _Primera _wouldn't care enough to discover her treachery before she wanted him to. She clenched her jaw as the dread of memory washed over her once more.

Starrk slid into his room ahead of her. She walked to the door but paused at the precipice, her fists clenched, her breath caught in her throat. She steeled herself, mentally preparing for the horrid storm she was about to weather. She hadn't readied herself for telling Starrk about Lilynette in the first place; she certainly hadn't prepared how to confront him after he'd already discovered it. She took a breath and came around the frame of the door.

She stopped without properly entering the room. Starrk was laying on his bed, back down, his right forearm up and resting on the bridge of his nose, covering his eyes. She made to speak, but the words caught in her throat—he looked so pathetic, so defeated. She'd seen him give up before, she'd seen him surrender before battles even began, but she'd never her seen him like this. He was exuding misery; it was shining from his despondency like pearls in moonlight. Harribel swallowed and took a step forward.

"Starrk," she said, not getting a reply but also not expecting one. She took another step into his room, slowly, trailing her fingertips along the top of his desk as she passed it. He looked dismal laying there, his legs splayed carelessly upon his mattress. She stopped again, her hand still on his desk.

"Starrk," she called again, a little more hesitantly. Her memory was suddenly flooded with his eyes, the way he'd looked at her over the past few months, the way he'd reacted whenever he saw her talking to Grimmjow and Ulquiorra. She breathed rapidly as she suddenly realized that she hadn't kept him in the dark at all, that he'd developed suspicions of his own and that she was a big part of them. She knew better to think that he would attack her right now, but she didn't want to provoke him any more than was necessary.

"Did you know about this," he asked from the bed without stirring, without looking at her. "Did you know about Lilynette, Tia?"

"I—" she began, the accusatory use of her first name causing her to pause. "I knew what you knew, Starrk."

"You knew that she was in the real world," he said, lowering his arm from his face. He stared vacantly at the ceiling. "But did you know that she'd betrayed me?"

"No," she said, softly, hiding her guilt. "I did not."

"Then what did you know?" he said, looking at ceiling.

"I knew what you knew," she repeated.

"Really?" he asked, still staring at the ceiling. "Because if there was one person in the universe I could trust to tell me the truth, it would have been her." He turned and looked at her now, his steel eyes calm and expressionless. His voice trembled slightly; she wanted to attribute it to distress, but she couldn't be sure it wasn't anger. "But now that person is you. So tell me the truth, Tia."

She swallowed again, looking at him, the thought of coming clean whistling through her mind. Could he forgive them? Would he understand that they were doing this for his own good? Could he see that she and Lilynette were trying to help him out of his self-imposed shackles?

Would he tell Aizen?

"No," she said quietly, quickly, turning away as another lump formed in her throat and she cursed her own cowardice. "I only knew what you knew."

He said nothing as he placed his arm back over his eyes. She watched him lay still for a moment, wishing she had the courage to call out to him, _Starrk. Starrk. Starrk! _but the wish had no effect on her lips. She could not bring herself to risk the mission. She could not bring herself to break his heart. She spun and fled the room, her fists clenched. She would think of something, of some way to tell him before Lilynette had to take the full brunt of this burden. She would fix this oversight, this grievous mistake that she had allowed to be born so long ago.

Harribel stalked through the halls as she made her way down to her chambers, her anger at herself growing as she neared the room. She could fix this, she could fix everything, nothing was wrong, this was only a little setback. She entered her room and threw herself into her chair, the heels of her hands pressed into her temples. She would talk with Ulquiorra and Grimmjow and figure this all out.

Except she wouldn't talk to Grimmjow. Not anymore. He was leaving them. Aizen had given him a pass to the real world, and Harribel knew exactly what he was going to do when he got there. He would go out and find Soi Fon and abandon them here in _Las Noches_. She growled again and clenched her hands into fists, drilling her knuckles into her forehead. Everything was falling apart and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She didn't have help anymore. She didn't have Apache or Mila Rose or Sun-Sun. She didn't have Starrk. She didn't even have Lilynette. She'd sacrificed too much.

She was going to explode and she was going to die and she was going to do it all alone.

"So," Grimmjow said from her doorway, "anything you want me to pick up while I'm out?"

She turned and faced him. He was already wearing a _gigai, _the human-like shell draped in street clothes, his mask gone, his hair the dirty brown of an ordinary man. He was leaning against her doorframe, a sheepish smirk on his lips. Harribel growled and stood, the growl turning into a roar as she rushed forward, her fists gripping his blue shirt as she shoved him against the wall.

"You chicken-shit little traitor!" she hissed in his face, her gloved knuckles pressing into his chest. "How dare you come in here, you bastard!"

He looked down into her teal eyes as she shoved him again. He gripped her wrists to control them, to prevent her from attacking him further. He looked into her face, noting the glistening of frustrated tears on the ledges of her eyelids. He clenched his jaw at the sight of them; he'd never imagined he would ever see such a blemish on her face. She blinked and they vanished and he knew she was far too proud to ever let them fall. He sighed and looked away from her accusatory glare.

"Look," he growled as he turned away. "It's not like I had much of a choice in thi—"

"Don't you _dare_ feed me that bullshit," she said with another shove, releasing him and sitting back down at her desk. A cool wind blew in from the open balcony doors. "Don't you fucking pretend like you aren't happy with how this turned out."

"I ain't gonna pretend shit," he said. "I'm just sayin' that—"

"Just leave," she said, exhausted, her fingers in her temples. "Just get out of here. It's what you've been trying to do since you got here, isn't it? Isn't it?"

She turned and looked at him. Her eyes were calm again, almost defeated. She was waiting for an answer—for something—even if her words refused to ask for it.

"I'm not abandoning you two," he said, finally. "It's not like I'm just gonna walk out and forget about everything we did together."

"Shut up," she said, turning back to her empty desktop. "Just go."

Grimmjow looked at her for a moment, wondering whether to keep talking or not. He decided it wouldn't do any good and turned away. Aizen wanted him out and in the real world as soon as possible. He'd only stopped by Harribel's room to see if any information on Starrk would be useful, but she obviously wasn't in the right frame of mind for that discussion. Or any other. It had been a useless detour anyway—if she didn't believe him, that was fine. He didn't need to convince her with words that he was going to make the best of this mission. He would find Soi and tell the Shinigami everything he knew and then they would be in great shape. Better shape than they were in now, at least.

"Maybe the joke wasn't a good idea," he mumbled to himself, the image of Harribel's tear-stained eyes flashing in his mind again.

He walked down the stairs and toward the nearest exit to the main desert. He wondered if he wasn't really abandoning Ulquiorra and Harribel. He _wasn't, _he knew that; he _was _going to help them from the other side of the lines. He wondered if they could even see it that way. Was he not trusted enough by his own partners to be left in charge of such an important change of plans? Harribel certainly didn't think so, but she didn't really trust him with much anyway. Otherwise, they had no reason to believe that he would, or could, drop the ball now. He knew that Ulquiorra trusted him; it was the whole reason Grimmjow was here in _Las Noches _in the first place. Were they simply jealous that he was getting the chance to fight without being under Aizen's command? He could understand that, but he could never be sure; neither of those two could bring themselves to admit such an emotion as envy.

It wasn't his fucking fault either way. Aizen had asked him to take this mission—he hadn't begged and pleaded for it, even if he'd wanted it. This mission had fallen into his lap just as much as theirs.

Astonishingly, his mind turned to Soi Fon for the first time since he'd spoken with Aizen. He exited the palace and stood in the moon-drenched desert, mentally ignoring the protests of his companions. He knew exactly where she was now, thanks to Szayel-Aporro's survival, but he didn't know where she was going to be once he got to the real world. Aizen was planting him further south than where Szayel-Aporro and Wonderweiss had attacked, leaving him forced to play catch-up for the next week as he headed to Ulaanbaatar. Still, even if he couldn't get to her while she was on her way, he knew that he would be able to meet her there eventually.

And also get laid.

He was so absorbed with routes and plans that the thought of sex struck him as absurd. He hadn't thought of Soi sexually for a long time. Well, he _had_, but not as though it was an attainable goal. Now it was, and it seemed so low on his list of priorities that he didn't really care about it. He was so concerned with seeing her alive that sex had become unimportant to him.

Not that he would disagree with it, whenever it came.

He reached a hand out, touching the dark desert air with a fingertip. A jagged line of ruby energy erupted from either side of the digit before it roared open as a _garganta. _He sighed and looked into the blackness of the portal, knowing that he was only one step closer to victory, to freedom, to Soi Fon. He only needed to traverse the path between dimensions and he was there, away from Aizen's oppressive rule. He sighed once more and slipped his hands into his pockets.

"Not going to say farewell?" Ulquiorra asked from behind him. "I expected better from you, Grimmjow."

"Yeah, well," he sputtered as he turned to face his friend, "Harribel didn't seem too keen on goodbyes, so I figured I'd skip 'em."

"I'm not Harribel."

Grimmjow chuckled at the frank truth of the response, the laughter feeling good in his chest, in his head. "No. No you're not." They looked at each other for a moment, no word passing between them, the cold air of the _garganta _slinking out and around their ankles.

"Be careful with what you tell Captain Unohana," Ulquiorra said finally. "While Aizen may have agreed with the plan I proposed, it's far too simple for his tastes; I wouldn't be surprised if he altered them completely."

"Yeah," Grimmjow replied, rubbing the back of his neck. They sat in silence again, awkwardly. "Oh," Grimmjow said suddenly, "I talked to Hirako Shinji earlier. The Vizards can be trusted—just don't expect them to take any orders."

"I assumed."

"Yeah."

"Then I suppose you should get going," Ulquiorra said, monotonously. "You haven't got a lot of time to waste."

"_You_ stopped _me_," Grimmjow chided, once more prolonging their goodbyes.

"Yes, well," Ulquiorra said, extending his pale hand out to Grimmjow. "Good luck, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow looked down at the hand before nudging it away to embrace his companion fully, his fists balled passionately as he wrapped his arms around the startled Arrancar. There was no physical response as he hugged Ulquiorra, but Grimmjow hadn't anticipated one. He squeezed once, tightly, and released the embrace, backing away.

"You too," he replied, "Good luck to both of you." He stepped into the open _garganta._

"And for what it's worth," Ulquiorra said, his emerald eyes focused intently on his departing companion. "Tell Soi Fon I'm sorry."

Grimmjow nodded and looked up, something at the edge of _Las Noches' _roof catching his eye. It was Harribel, her arms folded over her chest as she watched him leave. She looked down at him and gave him a single, sharp nod. He smirked and returned it before she spun and disappeared. Grimmjow looked back at Ulquiorra and grinned.

The _garganta _closed as he stood and watched _Las Noches _vanish for the last time.

* * *

**_author's note_**

_today makes one year since Heroes began! I swear the rest won't take as long (hence my declaration of two chaps a month from here on...)_

_grimmjow got away! you all know what that means..._

_big thanks to **jazz **for giving this the good ol' before i posted. _

**_reviews _**_are always encouraged!_

**_jta_**

**_rubies, pearls, and emeralds - tin hat trio_**


	18. Guts, Animal, Blooded, Roadkill

_**Guts**_

"_Shit!_" Hisagi bellowed as he gripped the wheel of the van, his knuckles white on the plastic circle. "Everyone hold on!"

The van suddenly lurched up and forward and over end. He reached out an arm and braced it against Lilynette's chest in the passenger seat as the vehicle toppled onto its roof. Lilynette fell from her seat and onto the ceiling of the van, her seatbelt severed near the clip. Hisagi grimaced as he hanged suspended from his own belt, his left collarbone holding all of his weight against it. He slipped the edge of _Kazeshini _against the cloth band and cut it, falling down onto the ceiling next to Lilynette. He looked back, shocked that the rest of the van was missing, the automobile cut clean directly behind his seat. The warm rain was splashing into the car.

"You alright?" he asked, reaching his hand out to touch Lilynette's shoulder.

"Yeah," she replied, pushing herself up from the ceiling. "Let's go."

He groaned and followed her out of the van's new exit and into the rain-soaked forest. They were close to Ulaanbaatar, likely less than ten kilometers from their final destination. Unfortunately, the closer they got, the more Hollow they encountered on a nightly basis. It was as though the monsters were stacked, thousands deep, around the final stronghold of Shinigami survival. Every evening that fell upon their traveling band brought more and more Hollow. The six of them had spent the last week in exhaustion, their days spent driving and their nights fighting undead beasts. If they slept at all, it was in short, crepuscular naps; they were forced to stay on constant alert, searching for any sign of approaching enemies.

"_Kazeshini!" _Hisagi yelled as he sprinted away from the half-wreckage of the van, his _shikai _slinging forward at the nearest of the Hollow and severing its head. He yanked back on the chain and gripped the scythe when it flew into his hand. The forest canopy was nearly as dense as the opaque rainclouds above, but in the very faint light he could make out the shape of his fallen enemy as it disintegrated—it wasn't an ordinary Hollow. It was an _Adjuchas._

"Impossible," he hissed as he looked around in the darkness. "No way. No _way._"

He leapt forward again, his sneakers splashing through the mud as he sprinted into the heat of battle, his sickles flying freely as they severed limbs and heads. He could hardly see through the blackness, the rainwater dripping from his bangs furthering his inability to see. He jumped up into the sky to get a better view, barely avoiding a swipe from an _Adjuchas _that had been behind him. He growled and slung his left scythe down at it, bifurcating the beast's entire body. He scanned the alpine arena briefly, taking quick numbers of his enemies as best he could, and landed. He dashed in and out of sight, appearing between trees as he headed toward the nearest body that didn't belong to a Hollow. It was Yumichika.

"They're _Adjuchas _tonight," he said, placing his back against his companion's.

"Yeah, no shit," Yumichika barked. "I noticed when one of them split the van in fucking half."

"Well fuck you then," Hisagi laughed, leaping forward to attack another Hollow. He swung low, severing the beast's legs at the knees, ducking down to destroy the mask as it hit the forest floor. Another _Adjuchas _took its place, rushing at him from the darkness and trampling its fallen companion's corpse to get to the crouched Shinigami. Hisagi watched it approach and remained kneeling, the comforting feeling of Yumichika's foot between his shoulder blades soon rewarding his patience as the other Shinigami leapt off his back and at the Hollow. Four streaks of light, Yumichika's steel reflecting the cloud-obscured yellow moon, and the monster fell. Hisagi stood and clapped Yumichika on the shoulder.

"Very acrobatic," he chided, looking around in the blackness that surrounded them, hearing battle and clashing weapons, but seeing nearly nothing.

"Don't get used to it," Yumichika shot back, leaping up into the canopy and vanishing into the dark. Hisagi watched him go and listened to the next approaching wave of _Menos._

These Hollow weren't acting right. Every report he'd come across that mentioned _Adjuchas _also mentioned that they were intelligent, that they were cognizant to the point of speech and intellect. These were nothing like that. They were attacking the Shinigami bestially, their faces white with war masks, their mouths frothing with animalistic fury. Something had whipped this horde into frenzy, and Hisagi was fairly certain that it wasn't them. He heard another one splash down into the mud nearby and again he crouched low, his twin scythes at the ready. He watched as the shadows moved around him, melding into the darkness of the surrounding forest. His black eyes flicked back and forth as the dim shades moved, waiting for any one of them to present an opening for his blades. He stood erect, swinging his zanpakuto in each hand at a slow rhythm.

"I hear that you can talk," he said to the darkness, not really expecting a proper answer. "Talk to me, why don't you?" A low din replied, the voice of a dozen Hollow coming from all around him. He watched carefully as the dark horde around him bulged.

"Ah, nothing?" he grinned, rapidly spinning one of the scythes over his head. "Too bad, we could have talked this one out." He skipped forward, slinging the sickle forward at one of the numerous shadows.

The ground suddenly erupted beneath him, as though his shoe had sprung a trap hidden within the dark moss, the wet soil exploding upwards and carrying him into the sky. He growled and spun, turning himself in the air to face the Hollow below him. A massive hand reached up from the pit in the earth, grabbing him as he fell. It gripped him tightly, pinning his arms to his sides.

"_Shit," _he hissed as the gargantuan fist tightened around him, squeezing the breath out of his lungs. He wriggled as it squeezed tighter and rose into the air, the paw's owner appearing from the ground like a massive mole, its white face gnashing at up him, its maw a fang-filled pit in the earth. Hisagi squirmed, dropping one of his scythes in an attempt to slip a free hand out of the monster's grasp. If he could blast the thing's face with a powerful _hadou_, it might let him go. If he could get a hand free before the creature swallowed him—it was beginning to lower him towards its awaiting jaws.

And then he was free, the hand falling with him, the fingers slack against his torso. He kicked against the palm and stepped out of the fist as it slammed into the mud. The handless Hollow's angry bellows soon vanished from behind him. Hisagi turned and wiped the warm rain from his eyes as he grinned at Lilynette, his lovely savior approaching him with a shaking head.

"Try not to tease them, Shuuhei," she scolded. "It's only gonna make them angrier."

"What's wrong with them?" he asked with a grin, looking around at the undulating shadows. "I thought _Adjuchas _were supposed to be a little more civilized than this."

Lilynette socked him on the shoulder. "I said no mocking!" she growled.

"Hey!" he barked defensively. "I was being serious!"

"They're in a feeding frenzy," she said softly, reverently, her eyes darting from him to the unseen dangers that encircled them. "There's something close by, a strong _reiastu_ they are drawn to but can't reach. Their hunger is driving them insane." She gripped her scimitar in both hands and steeled her gaze. "I can feel it, too," she said as she darted forward into battle once more.

Hisagi watched her slip away into the darkness, briefly stunned by the blunt reminder that Lilynette was a Hollow. Neliel as well. He wondered how it felt for his two companions to fight alongside their natural enemies, in order to slaughter their own kind. Neither of them showed remorse after a battle, but Hisagi knew that Lilynette could hide her sadness better than anyone—he imagined that Neliel must as well. He suddenly felt a powerful wave of pity wash over him. He wondered what it was like for these two women, working for an organization whose primary reaction to them was hostility, working against their own kind for just the opportunity to live freely. He'd never had to kill a Shinigami that was simply being a Shinigami, which is exactly what Neliel and Lilynette were doing every night—killing Hollow, their own kind, for no reason but their being Hollow.

He heard Lilynette yell in the distance, her voice synced up with the slashing of her sword and the slaying of another _Adjuchas. _Hisagi sighed and charged forward into the darkness once more.

_**Animal**_

_"Shit! _Everyone hold on!"

Yumichika emerged from sleep and groggily looked around as Hisagi yelled in the driver's seat. He was stretched out across the rear bench of the van, his sleeping shift having started only a few minutes ago; he'd sacrificed the midnight nap to gain the longer morning spot, but it looked like he'd made a mistake by trading with Lisa. He shot his head above the middle bench—where she, Soi Fon, and Neliel were sitting—and looked forward at the driver whose yelling had woken him, prepared to grumble something about shutting the hell up.

The van was suddenly up in the air and spinning, the vehicle's front half missing. Yumichika, having been asleep and unrestrained by a seatbelt, tumbled headfirst onto the ceiling, and then back onto the floor as the van landed on its back wheels. "What the fuck," he grumbled as he struggled to wake up and remove himself from the pile of glass on the bottom of the van. Warm rain was falling on him from the broken back window. Soi Fon and Lisa were already out of the van. Neliel was still in the back seat, her big eyes peering down at him.

"Are you okay, Yumichika?" she asked quickly, her eyes darting to the windows and back.

"Yeah," he said, looking around, "I'm fine." She was already gone.

He kicked the back hatch open and stumbled out into the wet forest, the bellowing of Hollow surrounding him. He reached a hand up and rubbed his face, once more trying to remove his grogginess. He sighed, slid his hand back through his black hair, and brought his hand to his face quickly—it was warm and sticky with blood. He had a shallow gash running along the back of his head. He sincerely hoped that they were close to Ulaanbaatar; everything he owned was either covered in blood or mud, including himself. They'd been roughing it for a week and he wanted a real bed, a nice meal, and a hot shower. Soon.

"Ugh," he hissed, touching the back of his head once more. The gash was still bleeding, warm blood trickling through his hair and down the back of his neck. "How ugly," he grumbled reached down and gripped the handle of his _katana, _sliding it out of the scabbard as he scanned the dark wood around him, growling, flicking his wrist and releasing his four-bladed _shikai _as he rushed into the horde that surrounded him.

He bit down and slashed into the crowd vigorously, his sickles spinning and twirling as he began another nightly round of exterminations. He dashed forward, leaping to avoid attacks, landing in puddles, his shoes and socks absorbing the gritty rainwater at his feet. He flipped forward in the air, landing on the back of an enormous _Adjuchas, _and raked his scythes across the back of its skull. He leapt up and backwards into a clearing as the beast began to dissolve into the nighttime, its huge body floating away, a desert dune pulled apart by harsh winds. He squinted into the darkness as it squirmed around him, a sole particle breaking out from the shadows and rushing towards him. He went to attack before recognizing it as Hisagi. The other Shinigami stopped behind him and placed his back against Yumichika's, brandishing his own blade outward at the enemies that surrounded them.

"They're _Adjuchas _tonight," Hisagi said, slightly out of breath.

"Yeah, no shit," Yumichika snapped sarcastically. He hadn't even seen the monsters that attacked them when he'd reached the conclusion that they were too powerful to be ordinary Hollow. "I noticed when one of them split the van in fucking half."

"Well fuck you then," Hisagi shot back with a laugh, darting forward at one of the shadowy figures that had decided to stick its snout too close. Yumichika watched his companion's attack, the other Shinigami crouching low and felling the offending Hollow in two cuts. Yumichika huffed disdainfully as another _Adjuchas _approached and Hisagi remained kneeling, as though he were unaware of the incoming attack—of course, he wasn't ignorant of the beast, but giving Yumichika the chance to deal the deathblow instead. Hisagi Shuuhei _loved _cooperation between Shinigami in battle; he'd made it a core tenant of his squad's routine while he'd been a captain. As much as the Eleventh had changed under Ikkaku—and Yumichika being the antithetical member of that squadron—they still preferred for their fights to be one-on-one. Yumichika rolled his eyes and bounded forward, the sole of his sneaker landing between Hisagi's shoulders, leaving a muddy shoeprint on his back as Yumichika completed the double-team attack and sliced the Hollow's face into four segments.

"Very acrobatic," Hisagi said cheerfully as Yumichika landed, slapping him on the back, the circle of Hollow ebbing back into darkness for the moment. Yumichika heard the clashing of blades further out in the woods.

"Don't get used to it," he replied and leapt up into the branches of the nearest tree, his mud-soaked sneakers bounding from one limb to another as he headed to the nearest pile of _Adjuchas_. He stopped and crouched on a thick branch and listened to the carnage below him, trying to sense who was fighting beneath the canopy. The rain was stopping gradually; he could hear it pattering thickly on the ground and leaves, obscuring his ability to listen for distinguishing details from below.

A buzz sounded behind him and he leapt forward onto another branch and spun, his scythes pointed at the Hollow that now stood on the branch. It was Neliel. He exhaled in relief and lowered his scythes. She was smiling and looking out past him. As he looked at her, he realized could see rather well above the canopy. He could distinctly make out the dark mud splashes on her fair cheeks, her upturned lips pink in the dark grey light of very early morning. He wondered idly if he looked as dirty and exhausted as she did. He was sure he did. Probably moreso.

"What's got you so happy?" he asked, crouching down on his branch to rest, his lack of sleep suddenly overcoming the adrenaline that battle had set racing. He knew that it was silly to ask Neliel what made her smile—she always seemed to be smiling—but now, in the middle of an exhausting battle, at the end of an exhausting week, he figured it would be worth his inquiry to ask.

"Look," she said without turning her eyes to meet his, pointing her finger forward as innocently as a child.

He stood back up, groaning at the exertion, and looked south. He squinted to see out into the distance in the faint light—he could make out a river, reflecting a pink patch of clear sunrise from among the storm clouds above, his eyes trailing along its banks. Then he saw what she was looking at and he couldn't keep from smiling himself. Off in the distance he could see their destination, Ulaanbaatar. The small city's buildings were beginning to come into view as the sun grew closer and closer to the horizon, a speckling of streetlights now visible as the dark storm began to dissipate. His grin grew and he looked back at the female Arrancar.

"We made it," she said, looking at him and returning the smile.

The tree she was standing on suddenly cracked and she leapt onto his branch, landing next to him. He instinctively reached a hand out to catch her, and she took it briefly and turned around. She stood next to him and watched in silence as the tree she'd been occupying splintered and fell upon the group of _Adjuchas _that swarmed beneath them. Neliel looked down at the writhing mass of Hollow, her eyes filled with an unmistakable sorrow as she looked at the grinding maws below them.

"Not yet we haven't," Yumichika said softly. "Come on, let's get going."

He leapt down to continue the fight, leaving Neliel lingering behind on the branch.

_**Blooded**_

Kurosaki Ichigo stepped out of the hotel, ducking his head as a stream of chilly rainwater spilled from the roof and into his hair. He shook his head lightly and continued his walk to the edge of the city, a battered blue and white thermos in his left hand, _Zangetsu's_ massive blade strapped to his back. He looked up at the lightening grey clouds as they began to break up and allow the pink sunrise to be seen. He ran his hand through his orange hair in a second attempt to rid it of the rain and slipped his wet hand back into his pocket and walked on, passing a pair of policemen playing cards at the mouth of an alley, smoking cigarettes in the damp morning light. Ichigo waved at them in passing, but they gestured him over in an urgent fashion. His intrigue up, Ichigo walked over to them with a smile.

"What's the news, guys?" he asked the two familiar officers.

"That is what we should ask you, deadlord," the shorter of the two said, his _gigai _fumbling over the translation for the word 'Shinigami'. "Your lady friend has not come back from her shift yet. We are getting worried about her."

Ichigo unscrewed the lid of his thermos and took a sip of the beef stew that he was now fairly certain Mongolians ate for every meal. "Yoruichi?" he asked, taking another sip and spinning the lid back on tightly. "I'm sure she's fine." He smirked at the shorter man. "Unless you're wondering about her for another reason?"

The officer's round cheeks grew red as he laughed with his partner, his smile wide and yellow.

"Yes, yes," he stammered jovially. "I want her to be my wife!"

"You already have a wife," Ichigo shot back as he resumed his stroll down the sidewalk.

"I want her to be my other wife!"

Ichigo laughed and walked onward, crossing the bridge that stretched over the Tuul, the river that slowly marked the limits of town. He skipped up onto the sidewalk, leaping over a fat puddle of reflected sunrise. He came to the other side of the bridge and looked out into the forest that grew near the edge of town, his brown eyes scanning for where Yoruichi had set up the outpost this time. Though he was looking intently, he knew his eyes were useless in this chore; he had to feel for it—Yoruichi had cloaked their small lookout tent in a pretty impressive _kidou, _and every other night she would move it to another location and trust that her companions would be able to find it. Usually Byakuya got stuck trying to find her, but today was Ichigo's turn.

He stepped into the woods and leaned forward, sticking his hand into a bundle of bushes. He smirked and gripped onto a branch and tugged it back. The foliage peeled away like a tent flap, revealing a roomy, dry space within. Shihouin Yoruichi was inside, asleep, her limbs splayed out carelessly, her mouth open and snoring. She was drooling a little. Ichigo chuckled and leaned forward into the hidden base, gently nudging Yoruichi's shoulder to wake her up.

In an incredibly quick movement, the sleeping woman had shot upright, her fist clenched around Ichigo's wrist, a small dagger against his Adam's apple. He laughed and looked at her softly.

"It's time for my shift," he said as she relaxed, "ya lazy bum."

"You're lucky I didn't slice that pretty little throat of yours," she grumbled, rubbing her forehead with her palm. "Where's his highness at? I thought today was his morning shift."

"Yeah, he's awake," Ichigo replied, backing out of the tent to let Yoruichi emerge and stretch the sleepiness out of her limbs. "I just felt like coming out here for some quiet time before they get back tonight, you know?"

"Yep," she replied with a yawn. "I'll see you in a few hours then," she said as she walked toward the city. "Good luck."

He watched her go and sat down on a large, flat stone. It was nearly dry. He unscrewed the lid to his thermos once more and took another sip before setting it on the mossy forest floor. He crossed his legs and stretched _Zangetsu_ across his lap, the polished edge reflecting the morning sky up into his eyes. He turned his face up to look through the trees at the brightening day, at the pink and yellow and white buds that were beginning to appear in the green canopy, smiling at the sweet little heralds of spring. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the twittering of birds in the magnolias above calming him as he fell into a trance, the summoning of his inner world beginning to overtake him.

Before Urahara Kisuke had left with Unohana to make their final preparations a week ago, the scientist had given Ichigo a strange medicine that had quelled his inner Hollow to the point of conversation. A talk that had, of course, devolved into a fairly lengthy battle. After Ichigo had emerged as the victorious king of his mind, he made an effort to get to know the malignant spirit within him better. Every time he would come out to serve a guard-shift, he would take the solitude and dive into his inner world on a mission of amnesty.

Half the time he went in, he didn't even have to fight the stubborn bastard.

He was also sleeping a lot better. The nightmares and sleepytime death threats had all but ceased after Urahara's miracle cure, and he could stay in bed until noon if he wanted to. He was also eating on a regular basis, and the bags under his eyes were gone. He was starting to feel good. Everything was starting to look good for his little band of friends.

"Or as good as it could be," he mumbled to himself as he drifted away into his inner dimension.

_Snap._

His eyes flew open, his brown irises scanning the woods intensely, searching for the cause of the sound. He stood, knowing that it had come from something big. Bigger than a squirrel, at least. He gripped the handle of _Zangetsu_ and leveled the sword at the surrounding trees. He took a step forward, his entire body on edge as he waited for the attack to start. They'd been waiting for Aizen to come for them all week—now it seemed like he might have finally found them.

Or it was just a bear. But even if it was just a bear in the woods, he didn't want to be falling into deep meditation with a bear sniffing around.

He took another few cautious steps forward, his heart racing, his eyes flicking quickly at every sign of movement against the verdant background. He focused his _reiatsu _down to a point deep within his chest, trying to keep it concealed. He could feel the _reiatsu _of his opponent, and he hoped that he'd concealed his own quickly enough that they didn't notice him too. He felt the energy coming from his left. He turned and stared into the forest, his eyes landing upon a thick brown tree. He took another step towards it, holding his breath, trying to be as quiet as possible as his feet carried him over the soggy forest floor. He raised _Zangetsu_ up over his head and swung down fast, a flash of steel appearing from behind the tree and clashing with his blade.

He almost dropped his sword.

"Ichigo?" Neliel asked, her large eyes quickly blinking twice.

"Nel?" he gasped, stepping back, lowering his sword.

"_Ichigo!_" she yelped and threw herself at him, her zanpakuto tumbling to the ground as she wrapped her arms around his chest, pinning his to his sides.

"Nel," he stammered again, wriggling in her pleasantly tight grasp. "What the—I mean—what are—what are you doing here?"

She pulled her face out of his shoulder and smiled up at him, as if her brilliant olive eyes could somehow answer his question. He stared down into them, eyebrows furrowed, and he thought they almost could.

"Neliel?" another, very familiar voice called out. Ichigo's head snapped up at it, his grin wide as Yumichika ran into the clearing. The effeminate Shinigami's jaw fell open as he turned to look for Neliel and found her. He leaned his head back and laughed prettily and walked toward them.

"Holy shit," Yumichika said, "it's about time we made it."

"We?" Ichigo asked, Neliel releasing him so that he could tightly grip Yumichika's hand. "What do you mean? Why is Nel with you?" he asked, his eyes looking down at Yumichika's ruined clothing, the abnormally disheveled clothing, the dried bloon on his face and his hands. He looked over at Neliel, his smile dropping slightly as he noticed her own mud-stained body. "What the hell happened to you guys?"

"It's a long story," Soi Fon said from behind him, "Kurosaki Ichigo."

He turned to see the short captain leading Hisagi Shuuhei and Yadomaru Lisa out of the woods. There was another small woman following them, hovering near Hisagi, her face one that Ichigo vaguely remembered. His smile grew as they gathered around him.

He looked at Yumichika. "Jeez, Yumi," he said with a laugh, his glancing at Neliel for a moment. She was looking at him, too. He looked back at Yumichika. "You got anybody _else_ tagging along?"

"Nah, just us," Hisagi said, stepping forward to pat Ichigo on the shoulder. "Just us."

Ichigo felt his smile fall again. He looked around at the six people surround him; they all looked cold and wet, and tired and covered in mud. They each had some sort of backpack, hanging torn and worn from their shoulders. He glanced at Neliel again. She was still looking at him. He smiled at her and looked back at the group.

"Well come on," he said, pointing behind him. "We've basically got a whole hotel to ourselves in the city. Let's get you guys some rooms and some food."

"Yes please," Yumichika said.

"See," Lisa barked at Hisagi as they began to walk towards the city, "I told you we were closer than ten kilometers."

"I said five last time," he replied.

"No, you said ten," the other girl teased.

Ichigo lingered behind, chuckling as he watched them bicker. He turned and picked up his sword from where he'd dropped it trying to escape Neliel's embrace. He leaned down and picked it up when a sudden wave of uneasiness rushed over his body. He stood up straight, _Zangetsu _in his right hand, his grip slowly tightening as he looked around. He could _feel _something nearby. It wasn't _reiatsu, _it was something else, a force that tugged at his nostalgia like an old smell…

"Ichigo?" Neliel said lightly, causing him to turn away from the deeper woods. "We don't know the way without you," she said, smiling softly. She hadn't felt it. He heaved a sigh and found that he was smiling at her as well.

"Yeah," he said, walking next to her. "Sorry. Let's go."

He looked back over his shoulder, briefly, and led the tired travelers to the city.

_**Roadkill**_

Soi Fon stepped out of the steamy bathroom, drying her short black hair with a towel as she walked into the hotel room she had been lead to earlier. She passed by a mirror—the first full-sized one she'd seen in months—and looked herself over. She was wearing a baggy blue tank-top and a pair of khaki shorts that were both way too big for her—Yoruichi's clothes, borrowed because her own were still filthy. She leaned forward and inspected herself closely in the mirror, sneering at her reflection, at the bags under her eyes and the pallid tone of her cheeks. She let out a tired sigh and picked her backpack up from the floor, placed it on the room's small desk, and unzipped it. She wrinkled her nose as she pulled out a wet ball of shirts and socks and jeans. She held them at arm's length and carried them across the room, dumping them in a wicker basket and wondering how she'd re-worn those same clothes so many times without being driven crazy. She must have lost her sense of smell while on the road.

She sighed again. She'd had a hell of a two years getting here.

There was a soft knock on the door, Yoruichi following it in a second later. She looked at Soi Fon and started laughing. Soi glowered at her slightly.

"What's funny?" she snapped as she hefted the wicker hamper up and onto her hip. "They're your fat clothes."

"No, it's just—" the taller woman said, still laughing, opening the door for her one-armed friend to carry the basket out more easily. "Without your braids—you look—like a ten year-old boy."

"You think we'd all be used to that," Soi snapped back with a laugh, walking down the hall of the hotel with Yoruichi. "Although," she said and glanced down, "I'm sure the barefoot look isn't helping me any."

They continued walking, laughing together for the first time in a long time. A pair of twins suddenly appeared from a hidden nook, the girls descending upon Soi Fon and snatching the basket away. They skittered down the hall before she could make an utterance of protest, the only sounds from her mouth both confused and eclipsed by a cheerful laugh from further down the hall. Soi turned to find a rotund old woman waddling down the hall at them. She grinned wide at Soi, her eyes smiling behind a large pair of tinted glasses.

"Yes yes," she tittered, pointing, "Let Bolormaa take care of you, little thing. Yes yes yes."

Yoruichi stepped aside and let the hotel's matron sway past, the taller woman nodding her head respectfully. Soi watched the old lady go and turned a questioning eye to Yoruichi. Her friend shrugged and continued walking.

"Bolormaa loves to take care of people," she said as the two of them entered the dining room of the hotel. "Fighting her hospitality is just a waste of time."

The room was very large. There were a dozen wooden picnic tables lining the walls, each under a dirty window, and a hodgepodge of plastic tables and chairs within the center of the hall. There was a small room near the back corner and through its doorless entrance Soi could see a pool table and a dark, ancient pinball machine. The room was empty—everyone else must have gone to sleep already. She followed Yoruichi to one of the nearby tables where a pair of white plastic bowls sat waiting for them, steam tumbling up from the brown broth and into the wooden rafters above. Yoruichi sat down and began to eat immediately, her golden eyes furrowing at Soi Fon's slower pace.

"Sit, girl," she said in a teasingly demanding tone, slapping the empty chair next to her. "And get used to this soup; it's about all they eat here."

"Is it any good?" she asked, sitting down, remembering her job as a chef in Iceland. The steel shelves and greasy burners of her kitchen seemed so far away, so long ago. She felt her chest tighten in the grip of nostalgia and she looked up from the food and out the steadily brightening windows. She saw Ichigo and Neliel outside, the Shinigami standing and talking and waving his arms playfully, the Arrancar sitting on a wooden bench, her eyes squeezed tight, her hand covering her mouth as she laughed. Soi noticed that her sitting, smiling, giggling friend hadn't even changed from her muddy clothes yet. Soi looked away again, the dark well of envy she kept deep within a crack in her heart stirring strongly.

"Doesn't matter," Yoruichi answered, slurping softly. "Not like you have much to choose from." She looked up and noticed that Soi wasn't eating; instead her old friend was giving the nearest window a thousand-yard stare. The dark-skinned Shinigami frowned slightly. "You awake in there?" she asked, tapping Soi's forehead with a fingertip.

Soi snapped out of her trance, looking at Yoruichi in a moment of confusion, her mind replaying the words that she hadn't been listening to, the conversation she'd been ignoring. She put on a smile.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm just tired," she said, leaning forward and tasting the soup. She lifted the plastic spoon to her lips and slurped quietly. She looked up at her oldest friend. "It's actually really good."

"Sure, try saying that tomorrow," Yoruichi joked, her eyes rolling upward. Her smile fell slowly, softly. "So, how have you been, my little bee?"

"Oh, you know," Soi Fon replied, smiling with fake neutrality, "I got to see the world; backpack Europe and all that."

She took another sip of her soup and remained silent and Yoruichi let her stay silent for the rest of the meal, their conversation consisting only of a volley of yawns and swigs of broth. Soi slowly drained the soup to its halfway mark and stood, looking around slowly.

"I think I'm going to go to sleep," she said, "is there a lid for this?"

"I don't know. I can look for you."

"No, don't worry. It'll just get cold anyway."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Goodnight, Yoruichi."

"Goodnight," she replied, watching her friend leave with a frown, "Soi Fon."

Soi Fon walked listlessly back through the hall, passing the rooms that each of her companions had been assigned. She heard the old matron fussing down at the hall, her twins laughing in cute harmony at their mother. Soi made it to her door and pulled it open, stepping into the chilly room and shutting the door noiselessly. With a small jolt of surprise, she noticed that she had left _Suzumebachi _in the room, leaned up against the squat desk. She hadn't even thought about needing the zanpakuto. She felt safe here—for the first time since she'd left Soul Society two years ago, she felt safe enough, here in this far away plateau that had been her hazy goal for so long, that she didn't feel the constant need for _Suzumebachi's_ protection.

She lifted her backpack and pulled out an ugly digital watch and pressed the little teal the button that would let her set an alarm. Her thoughts attempted to settle, the fuzziness abating as she considered what time she needed to wake up. With a short laugh, she realized that she didn't need to set a time. She didn't have a schedule to follow anymore. She didn't have a train to catch or a destination to reach. She didn't have to hope that she wasn't running in vain. She was here, finally, where she belonged.

_If only Grimmjow were here, _she thought as she crawled under the thick sheets of the bed, _then it would be perfect._

She chuckled gently at the thought, at perfection, at loneliness, her laughs turning into sobs as she buried her face in her pillow and cried herself softly to sleep.

* * *

**_author's note_**

_rather cheery little chapter, if i do say so myself. except for that one part at the end. slice of life ain't always happy, i reckon. __but the way i see it, the harder life hits you, the sweeter the reward. whenever it comes._

_which might be... oh i dunno. soonish._

_and let me know what you think of the story so far, if you'd be so kind._

___big thanks to **jazzpha **as always._

**_jta~!_**

**_guts - hirasawa susumu_**

**_animal - pearl jam_**

**_blooded - lil wayne_**

**_roadkill - faun fables_**


	19. By This River

_**By This River**_

Yumichika yawned and stepped out into the hallway. The twins had taken his filthy clothes away that morning before he'd gone to sleep, and returned them sometime during the day, clean. He was showered, he was well rested, and now he was hungry. He hazily recalled there being an empty buffet in the main hall this morning, so he hoped there would be food in it now. He scratched the back of his neck and yawned again and walked toward the expansive room near the face of the hotel. The building was strangely quiet. He hadn't seen any other guests earlier, and he didn't see any now. Ichigo had said that the Shinigami had the place to themselves. Whether that was by choice or because of the Hollow plague's effect on tourism, Yumichika didn't know. He entered the main hall, the goldenrod light of early afternoon pouring in through the tall windows that surrounded the room. There was no food in the buffet near the far wall, but there was a pair of swinging kitchen doors that gave him hope. He heard a tiny laugh behind him and turned to find Ichigo and Neliel sitting at a corner booth. They looked very much lost in their conversation. He briefly weighed the risk of interrupting and shrugged. He walked over to them, too hungry to care about intruding.

"Hey."

"Yo," Ichigo replied, his smile swinging from Neliel to Yumichika. If the two of them were upset about the disruption, they didn't show it.

"How do I get something to eat?"

"Just stick your head in the kitchen," Ichigo replied, standing. "Bolormaa will get you something in no time." Neliel stood with him.

"Where are you guys going?" Yumichika asked his eyes flicking to the kitchen doors and back as the duo began to walk toward the exit.

"Guard duty again," Ichigo replied. "Byakuya and Yoruichi are going to the station, so I gotta be on lookout for the afternoon."

They left, Neliel bouncing behind Ichigo without explaining why she was accompanying him. Yumichika frowned briefly; he was slightly off-put that Ichigo hadn't stayed to talk a little longer. The two of them grew close before their separation a year ago and Yumichika figured that his friend would be a little more eager to play catch-up. But when he watched the two of them go off together, his mild indignation flickered out. He'd never seen Ichigo as relaxed as he was around her—the usual feel of repressed joviality that accompanied the orange-haired man was gone. The same could be said for Neliel's attitude; while she was almost always wearing a smile, this was the first time since he'd met her that Yumichika didn't feel the urge to question it. He knew why.

He turned and almost ran into one of the twins.

"_Jesus_," he gasped at her surprising arrival, a hand flying dramatically to his chest.

"Eat," she said meekly, quietly, holding out an old plastic bowl. It contained a brown broth, tendrils of steam squirming up from its surface.

He glanced at her questioningly, down at the bowl, then up and past her at the identical face peering at him from the kitchen door's circular window. "Thanks," he said taking the bowl. The girl scurried away to the protection of the kitchen, her sister darting out of view as well. Yumichika sat and lifted the spoon to his lips. It was a little bland, but he was too hungry to care. He ducked to take another sip when the sound of billiard balls clashing caught his ear. He looked up and saw an empty door frame near the other side of the room, a giggle drifting out from it. He stood, carefully cradling the soup in his hands as he walked through the big room. As he drew closer, the sound of music began to pipe out of speakers, pinned to the corners of the room, the mellow Mongolian voices tinny in the dusty black boxes. He came to the game room in time to see Lilynette sink the black eight-ball and stick her tongue out at Hisagi. There were still three striped balls on the table, Yumichika noticed.

"See?" she said, leaning the cue against the table and arrogantly slapping the cue ball into a side pocket, "you still can't beat me."

"You're right," he said, pulling her close and kissing her forehead, "I concede defeat."

"Damn right you do."

"Jeez," Yumichika said, leaving his soup on a nearby shelf and picking up a cue. "Do I get to take a shot at the throne?"

"I don't think you'd like it if I kicked your ass too, Yumichika," Lilynette shot back.

"Only one way to find out."

"No can do," Hisagi said, picking up his coat from the back of a chair. He slid his arms into it. "We're off to get some food."

"There's food in the other room," Yumichika replied as he began to gather the balls at the end of the table. "You know, the one they call a 'kitchen'?"

"If you wanna call that shitty soup food," Lilynette said, her nose wrinkling at his bowl.

"Fine, be that way," he sneered. "I'll play by myself."

"Ta-ta," she quipped, blowing a snarky kiss out from her fingertips.

"Be nice," Hisagi said and placed an arm around her waist. They left the room and Yumichika smiled. He had grown to really like the little Arrancar—she was good for Hisagi. She could actually make him laugh.

He finished collecting the balls, rolling them all to one end of the table. He looked around and found a plastic triangle hanging from a hook drilled into the wall. He placed it down on the worn, torn green felt. He looked at the collection of balls, chipped and ancient, and placed most of them inside the rack, removing from the table everything above the ten-ball. He shaped them in a diamond within the rack, the yellow one-ball in front and the yellow-striped nine in the center. He walked around to the opposite side of the table, plucking the cue ball from the side pocket and placing it at the far rail.

"Let me break."

He turned and saw Lisa standing in the entrance of the room, already chalking the tip of her stick. He grinned at her, happy to have someone to play with. He stepped back and held out his hands in playful submission, presenting the breaking end of the table to her.

"You know how to play Nine?" he asked as she came around to his side of the table. She didn't respond. She leaned down, sliding her glasses up the bridge of her nose and taking aim at the white cue ball. Yumichika eyed the back of her jeans as she leaned forward, hoping that she didn't catch him staring because the sexual tension between them was rising again and he needed to vent it in whatever way he could. Even if only by stealing brief looks whenever she bent over.

She jabbed the cue forward, the white ball flying down the table and slamming into the tip of the diamond at the other end of the table, its loud crack briefly overtaking the music. She stood up straight and watched the balls scatter, the burgundy seven sliding into the left corner and salvaging an otherwise lackluster break. He smirked. She came around to the side, glancing at the distribution of the balls—he did too, planning the best way to pocket them in order. She took aim at the one, successfully dropping it into the side pocket, the cue ball hitting the rail and rolling back to the other end of the table.

She shook her head at the shot she'd left herself and Yumichika knew that he was in for a fun match—a sign of a decent pool player was when they made a ball and still looked upset. She leaned down again and shot, the cue ball gliding over an expanse of green and hitting the two, the blue ball bobbling in the corner pocket and sticking on the ledge.

"Not a bad shot," he said, chalking his own stick and readying himself. "Woulda gone in if this table wasn't so shitty."

"Hardy har har, jackass," she quipped as he sank the two, the cue ball hitting the corner of the pocket and coming around for a perfect leave on the three. He winked at her and dropped it, striking the cue ball low and rolling it backwards to the purple four.

"I thought you'd be better at handling balls than this," he said, shooting at the four and missing. He sucked air through his teeth at the immediate backfiring of his cockiness.

"I figured you'd be good at it too," she snapped back with a smirk, hopping down from her stool and coming around to where the cue ball had stopped, the shot on the four made difficult by Yumichika's miss. "Turns out I was wrong."

"You knew that before now, though," he jibed. She ignored him and hit the four hard, fast, the purple ball banking off the rail and landing in the opposite side-pocket with a satisfying clack. She stood and returned his wink.

"Still not so sure about that," she said, coming around the table, "to be honest." She leaned down and quickly slammed the five into the far corner pocket and gave herself a perfect leave on the six. She shot again, dropping the green ball and rolling the cue ball around to the black eight, the seven already gone. She shot at it and bobbled it in the pocket.

"Damn," she huffed, looking at the table, cursing herself for giving up the rest of the rack.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have done that," Yumichika chided, quickly placing the eight in the pocket and drawing back a little too far for the nine ball. He hopped up onto the table and twisted his arms over his head, the stick now behind him as he sat and planted one foot on the ground and leaned backwards and poked the cue ball and sank the nine to win the game. He hopped down and grinned.

Lisa moved around to the end of the table. "Play me again."

"Only if you ask nicely this time," he replied with a smirk, picking balls out of the pockets and rolling them to where she was racking. He wasn't talking about the game.

"Don't push your luck," she snapped, completing the diamond and lifting the triangle. The response had not been nearly as playful as the rest. Yumichika furrowed his eyebrows and walked around to the far end of the table, planting the white ball in the center, rolling it slightly to the right with the tip of his cue, the shaft sliding back and forth on the rail as he aimed high on the white ball and he rammed his stick forward, the cue ball striking the point of the diamond and scattering it into nine and bouncing back and then suddenly darting forward again, clashing with the seven and rolling them both into opposite corner pockets.

"Dammit," Yumichika said, sheepishly. Lisa pulled the ball from where he'd scratched and stood in silence, examining the table before placing the cue ball directly behind the one and sinking it.

"I figured I didn't have to tell you about the 'ball-in-hand' rule," Yumichika jibed, hoping to get their innuendo-laden rapport up and running again. Lisa shot him a look, unfriendly over her glasses, and focused on the two-ball. Yumichika crossed his arms and leaned against the wall as she rolled the two into the pocket and came around the table for the three, the cue ball sliding slowly and sticking to the side of the object ball. She hissed and pushed the shot, the three falling into the pocket, the cue ball following it in.

"Look," she said sternly, picking the white ball up and handing it to him. She gave a harsh sigh. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked unconvincingly, taking the ball and avoiding her eyes as he looked at the table. He placed it near the four, the purple ball resting on the rail just past the side pocket.

"For sleeping with you."

He shot slowly, carefully, the cue ball hitting the four where it met the rail and the purple sphere rolling smoothly along it and falling into the empty corner with a hollow tap, the white ball spinning left and forward, the opposite direction of where the five was. He stood up and looked at her.

"At least you're not making _me _apologize for it," he said with a very fake laugh.

"Yumichika."

He didn't look at her. He studied the table. It was a long shot to make now, a field of green stretched between white and orange. The man on the radio was singing in English now, his tinny voice crackling: _You talk to me._ Yumichika looked up at Lisa, her eyes like the worn felt as they stared into him and he wondered if she was just a substitute, if _he_ was just a substitute. _As if from a distance. _He'd always been quick to fill his own voids in the easiest way possible, with the most convenient target available, and Lisa was simply an extension of that practice. Or was she? He knew where the conversation was headed now, that the building tension hadn't been leading to a second scene but to the finale, and despite his understanding of himself, he felt a painful sting of loss. _And I reply. _Was she a replacement for Hitomi? Was Hitomi a replacement for Ikkaku? Was Ikkaku a replacement for everything he could never be? _With impressions chosen from another time, time, time. _

"_From another time," _the singer softly repeated as Yumichika took his shot and missed.

"Don't worry about it," he said as she swiftly put the five away and came around on the six. She didn't want the conversation to interrupt the game and he couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a painful one.

"It has nothing to do with you," she said softly but without looking at him, loudly shooting the green six.

"I didn't pin you for a fan of romantic movies," he replied, once more wrapping his displeasure in a joke as she continued her run. She sank the eight, and gave herself perfect leave on the nine. She sighed and looked away from the table, to him. She stood erect.

"I'm being serious, Yumichika," she said, looking at him, her voice much harsher than her eyes. "I thought you were just a snotty little pretty boy when I first met you. I despised you. I'm sure anyone would have. But you aren't—you aren't that at all."

He looked at her for a moment before averting his gaze.

"You're wonderful," she continued. "Once your guard is down, you'll do anything for the people you care about. It's so enigmatic, watching you alternate between narcissism and sacrifice. You surprise me every day with your generosity. Any woman would be lucky to have you, a future with you."

"I'm not looking for that."

"Aren't you?"

His mouth opened but nothing came out. He closed it slowly and she smiled thinly.

"You need someone you can give everything to. And someone who can give it all back," she continued, leaning back down to aim at the nine-ball. "She just can't be me."

She shot, gently, the cue ball hitting the nine with a soft click in the silence between songs. It rolled slowly but just enough, landing in the pocket in front of where Yumichika was leaned against the wall. She placed her cue down along the length of the table and turned to leave the game room. She walked out, turning her head over her shoulder and gifting him with the most brilliant smile he'd ever seen.

"Thanks for playing with me, Yumi," she said and left him alone.

* * *

Grimmjow growled and wiped a dirty forearm across his brow. He looked up through the sweat and the canopy, hoping that he would be able to beat the sun to some city or other. It didn't even have to be Ulaanbaatar, just someplace with a bed and food. He huffed and lifted the map one more time, Mongolia's capital a dot that he hoped was just to the right of him, the compass in his other hand assuring him that he was still headed east. Still headed east. Still headed goddamned east. He'd been heading east for a fucking week now and he was really starting to doubt his map. Or maybe doubting his ability to read the map. He'd gotten to the mountains almost two days after his compass and his map had told him he was supposed to get there. He was supposed to be in Ulaanbaatar yesterday.

In short, Grimmjow Jaggerjaquez was pretty much lost.

He really wished he'd grabbed better equipment when he'd started his trek towards Mongolia. Aizen had only allowed him the _gigai, _a very little bit of currency, and instructions to find Urahara's invisible man. Any necessities after that Grimmjow had needed to scrounge up on his own. A cheap compass and a used, scribbled-on map of central Asia had cost him half of his allowance. Some bread and canned food and a leather canteen had finished emptying his wallet. He'd briefly wondered if Aizen had actually intended for him to complete this mission. He didn't wonder anymore; he was now fairly certain of it. In Aizen's eyes, if Grimmjow could find the phantom agent of Soul Society, then fine. If not, he'd at least be splitting up their trio in Hueco Mundo and maybe the Espada would die in the process. Grimmjow had already noticed the fake body's dislike of bad weather.

He wondered if Aizen suspected that he'd be looking for Soi Fon. Probably, but it was a risk he was willing to take. If he could get to Ulaanbaatar quickly and give the Shinigami information, maybe even get them to strike right away, it would be fine. He hoped. At worst, Aizen would know—somehow he would fucking _know—_that Grimmjow had made it and attack first, before he could spill any information. Still, they should be prepared for Aizen to strike at any moment. He hoped. Otherwise he'd have to face Ulquiorra and Harribel on the opposing side and pretend to try to kill them as their eyes burned a silent _I told you so _into him.

He folded the map, slipped it into his backpack, and shrugged it up onto his soaked shoulders. He continued traipsing through the humid forest, pulling _Pantera _out of the sheathe in his belt loop, ready to remove any vegetation that he was too impatient to walk around. The rain from the last two days was really starting to get on his nerves. Everything he owned was wet—his clothes, his food, his map were all starting to fall apart from the dampness. He chuckled gruffly and remembered how much he'd wished for rain when he'd been in the desert a few days ago. Now he would kill to be in northern Syria again. But then he'd be wishing for the wet cover of the alpines. He could be a damned fool sometimes, he knew that, but he wasn't _that _damned of a fool.

He looked back up at the sky through the pine needles, snarling again at the growing shades of yellow above him. He really didn't want to spend another night on the soggy forest floor. There was wrecked van a few hours back, if he really wanted actual shelter, if he really decided he wasn't going to make it anywhere by nightfall. He'd have to turn around now to get there before sunset, though. He sighed; he'd brave the forest for the night. He'd really be pissed at himself tomorrow if he wasted three hours getting back to the halved van and then see he'd have made it to town if he'd just kept going goddamned east.

Besides, he'd smelled too many Hollow lurking around the soggy van, waiting for nightfall. He'd had pretty damned good luck avoiding them so far—he wondered if he had Aizen's _gigai _to thank for that. He didn't want to think about being grateful to that man for anything, but he couldn't deny that the sniffing snouts of his kin had seemed to pass him over all week. Last thing he wanted was to sleep in a damp smelly van and attract some long-overdue attention.

He reached back with his left hand and tugged the leather canteen from one of the backpack's side pockets. He shook it and grimaced—it was almost empty. He'd tried to be careful about how much he took from it, but the last stream he'd seen was two days ago. He was pretty damned surprised at himself for having practiced such self-control with the water, but two days was still two days. He doubted he could have made it last any longer. The map told him that there was a river somewhere ahead, but it was the one that bordered Ulaanbaatar. If he reached that, he'd be concerned about more important things than refilling his canteen.

He thumbed the lid left until it came unscrewed and fell, dangling from a thin plastic tether. He stopped walking, lifted it to his lips, and took a tiny swig, the warm water not as soothing on his throat as he'd hoped it would be. He huffed again and considered another swig—if he took it, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep from finishing the canteen. _Fuck it, _he thought, lifting it back to his mouth. He was already hoping to reach his destination by nightfall; no point in conserving water if he actually made it.

Grimmjow spun quickly, slashing into the darkening forest, the canteen spilling from his hands and onto the mud at his feet. A thick tree toppled and crashed backwards into the woods. Grimmjow peered around him, intently scanning the spaces between firs. He'd felt _something _watching him. It had been close. He looked, felt with his _pesquisa. _Nothing. Whatever it was, it was gone now. He glared into the forest for a moment longer and lowered his guard with a sigh. He wondered if he was starting to lose it. He'd been walking basically non-stop for a week, with as little to eat or drink as possible. Maybe he was starting to see things that weren't there. He knew better than to assume it was a Hollow, and his _pesquisa_ hadn't picked up anything.

He chuckled ruefully and shook his head, bending down to pick up his canteen. He snatched it from the mud and gave it a shake, sneering at the leather pouch's vacancy. He slipped it back into the left side pocket of his backpack and a spot of red caught his eye. He stared down at the tip of his sword; his brows knotted as he lifted _Pantera _up and his eyes traced a thin rivulet of blood running down the steel toward the hilt.

He'd cut someone.

He snapped his head up at the dry sound of a cracking branch. He stared after the noise, his blue eyes following it east. Goddamned east.

* * *

"_Did you hear me, Neliel?"_

_She didn't respond to him. She was looking the other way, at the horizon and the cluster of minarets that tarnished the endless night. The palace of _Las Noches, _the castle of Hueco Mundo. That haunted building that had already taken so much from her, stolen so much of her life away. Even thinking about it made her chest ache dully. And now he was going back there._

"_Why?" she asked Tesla._

"_Because Aizen is still alive," he repeated. "And he's put Harribel in charge of rebuilding the Espada."_

_She knew this. She knew it a long time ago, long before he did._

"_Why do you want to join her?" she asked again._

"_Because I need some purpose," he said. He sounded guilty. "Because I can't stay out in this desert anymore."_

"_With me?"_

"_That's not what I meant," he stammered. "I want you to come with me. I'm sure Aizen would welcome you back as well."_

"_Don't you understand, Tesla?" she diverted, whirling around to face him for the first time. Her eyes brimmed with tears; the signs of her hurt stayed on the ledges of her eyes. He looked away. "Don't you understand that I don't want to fight anymore?"_

_He didn't respond for a while, choosing to look out at the palace instead. "I understand that, Neliel."_

"_Then why?" She took a step closer to him. "I thought you said you didn't want to fight either?"_

_He looked at her slowly, softly. Remorsefully. His single eye held her stolidly. He didn't have to say anything else. She knew why he was breaking his promise to her. He still wanted revenge. He still loved Nnoitra more than he loved her. One of her tears finally fell. She turned away quickly, but he saw it. He reached out a hand but she stepped away from him._

"_Just go," she said. "I hope you can find it, Tesla. Whatever it is that can make you happy. I hope you find it."_

_She took another step and stood still, her feet in the cold sand. He breathed out once, long and slowly, before vanishing in a buzz. Neliel sucked in a quick breath to force a sob back down her throat and she started walking through the desert, alone._

"_I'm sorry," Harribel said quietly, appearing behind her. "Thank you for staying where I need you."_

_Neliel walked on, silently._

Neliel was nervous. She walked next to him, her shoulder grazing against his every now and again as he continued to fill silences with gestures at landmarks and anecdotes about the city. She smiled back at him, astounded at how easily his voice put her at ease, and at how readily it set her on edge. He was everything she remembered. He was boisterous and cheery and happy. Her stomach flittered whenever he looked at her. Everything that had happened between _Las Noches _and now, every memory she held of her Shinigami savior, was here in this long conversation that they'd been having since she had reached Ulaanbaatar. She'd slept, briefly, but her sleep had been restless and filled with memories. Her dreams were filled by memories of her pasts, distant and recent and forgettable—and of her possible futures, all unrecognized. She'd awoke and ventured out into the empty hotel and the first face she'd seen was his. She vaguely remembered Yumichika. Then he was leaving and she went with him; she didn't recall if she'd been invited but he didn't reject her presence now.

As always, Ichigo was pleasant and warm. She couldn't tell if it was because of her.

They crossed a bridge and he pointed upwards at a lamppost that let one of its bulbs dangle uselessly. She laughed at it with him. He paused and leaned against the white stone of the crossing, his back and elbows resting against the rail. She stopped too and looked up, past the streetlight and at the sky, the wide bowl of blue that sat inverted above them, still azure in protest against the yellow light that colored the city at their backs. Ichigo was talking again and she heard him only distantly as she looked up at the thin, wispy clouds that accented the infinite blue above. She looked back down and smiled at him, smiling with joy, real joy, for the first time in a long time. She totted along beside him once more as they descended the other side of the bridge and came to the edge of the forest. He strutted forward and sat near the edge of the water, his back to the woods.

"Well, here we are," he said, his hands in his lap, "stuck by this river."

She sat next to him underneath the growing afternoon, the sky ever falling down.

"There could be worse places to be stuck," she said, hoping her anxiety wasn't showing. He didn't show if it was.

"Well, yeah," he said with a laugh, looking around. "But I'd much rather be showing you around town. Are you hungry yet? There's actually a great place for pizza just up the street from the hotel."

"You'd buy me a pizza?" she asked. She felt her eyelashes fan quickly with her words.

"I'd by _me_ a pizza," he said, his smile wry, "but I guess I'd give you some."

"You're too nice, Ichigo," she said, almost lisping. She leaned back, her legs still dangling over the storm wall as she fell down into the green grass. He stayed sitting, his orange hair eclipsing the blue sky. She looked up at him and smiled again. Talking to him was so different. She never felt like she was fighting simply to speak.

"Then why are we out here," she asked, her hands on her stomach, "instead of eating pizza?"

"Because Count Byakula wanted to take the afternoon off," Ichigo said, taking his brown irises away from Ulaanbaatar to look down at her. She held her breath. "And what the prince says, goes."

"Well that's not fair," she said, sitting up again, her shoulder touching his.

He shrugged, still looking at her. "Life's not fair, Nel."

"No," she replied, breathlessly, gazing into his eyes. "It's not."

He looked away. "But I guess that when they get back we can—"

She cut him off by thumbing his chin back to face her, her lips touching his softly. He hesitated for a moment, her heart sinking for a moment, before he leaned gently into her. His right hand came to rest on her thigh, his left coming up to cup her cheek and she placed both of hers on his chest and she fell forward into him.

* * *

Soi Fon stepped out into the late afternoon, her backpack slung over her left shoulder, _Suzumebachi _strapped dutifully to her lower back. She had decided to stay behind at the hotel instead of joining Yoruichi and Byakuya at the train station. She'd said that she was still tired, but the truth was that she wasn't exactly in the mood to watch Yoruichi's overzealous reunion with Kisuke. She didn't have anything against her friend's forever fiancé anymore, but she didn't trust herself to keep her mouth shut and sit back while Yoruichi hopped around him as if she hadn't seen him in years. She might have been a little jealous and a littler bitter, but she at least knew better than to put herself in a situation where she spoiled everyone else's happiness.

Fortunately, Yoruichi could read her like a book. "_Well, if you wake up and get bored, there's a big market just outside the center of town you could kill time at," _her eternally cheerful companion had suggested on her way out, knowing full well that Soi would be up and moving around within fifteen minutes of her leaving.

So that's what she was doing with her afternoon. After a quick bowl of bland soup, and biting her tongue while Bolormaa christened her with the nickname Little Thing while the twins silently served her, she decided that she didn't want to have the broth for her next meal and headed to the bazaar in hopes of finding a produce stand. If all the hotel matron wanted to prepare was beef stew, that was fine; Soi was a damned good cook and she would borrow the kitchen and make a proper meal for everyone tomorrow. After the two hellish years that had led up to this reunion, she figured they all deserved something a little better than soup.

She'd tried to recruit some assistance for her shopping trip—juggling money and groceries with one arm wasn't an easy task—but nobody was really around to ask. Well, that wasn't exactly true—Yumichika had been playing pool on a rickety old table, but Soi could see with just one look that he was in one of his pissy moods. It was odd seeing him in such a dour state again, the face he'd worn almost perpetually in years past marring his features once more. It was the first time she'd seen him like that in a while, but she couldn't forget the way he acted when he was in a mood. She didn't bother asking him to leave the green felt.

Soi could see the market ahead; an arrangement of squat buildings surrounding tan canvas tents at the end of the street, their shapes made cluttered as the dark outlines of people milled around their bases. She could see what she hoped was a farmer's market-type section at the other end of the sidewalks that stretched toward the bazaar. She looked over her shoulder briefly and crossed the street, stepping over grimy puddles on both of the roadsides.

She approached slowly, the heavy traffic and loud voices melding unpleasantly with her already sour temper. She thought back to Iceland again, to Fjalarr's little stand sticking out of his little house and his little dog Rós, and felt an odd pang of homesickness. She hadn't ever considered Reykjavik home, but it had come to be a place of comfort and hospitality for her. Now that it was gone, replaced with this bustling marketplace on the other side of the world, she wished that she were still there. That wasn't true—what she really wished was that none of this had happened at all, that she didn't have to be here on this gritty street in this foreign city, that Soul Society hadn't been tricked into utter defeat. She wanted to be in her division with her squad waiting for her orders.

With Grimmjow at her side.

"No no, Little Thing," Bolormaa chirped behind her, startling her from her thoughts. Soi Fon's lips pressed into a line as she turned to face the old woman that was waddling up the street after her. She had yet to see the reason why Yoruichi was so fond of this woman; she'd done nothing but get on Soi's nerves from the moment they'd met.

"You do not want anything from that man, no," Bolormaa said, slightly winded as she approached. "You want only the good things, yes? Come with Mother. You want to see the best in the _zech_? I will show the best in the _zech."_

Soi Fon rolled her eyes as Bolormaa waddled ahead. She wanted to protest the assistance from the boisterous old woman, but she accepted it. She hadn't been seeking company earlier for the sake of company, but to acquire a living grocery basket. Bolormaa could be a noisy version of that. Besides, she figured that dealing with the old woman could only be a little worse than if she'd actually dragged Yumichika's pissy ass along.

"What do you want, Little Thing?" Bolormaa asked. Soi fought the urge to kill the nickname then, but she recalled Yoruichi saying that fighting Bolormaa's attempts to be friendly was a waste of time. As much as it irked her, Soi knew that the old lady meant well by the name.

"Food," Soi responded, realizing that this was the first time her _gigai _had spoken in Mongolian. She found herself forcing through the foreignness of the chattering language, as she'd had to for every language her fake body forced her words into. "Rice. Meat."

"Ah, we have that. Yes yes, we have that already," the matron chirped.

_Then why don't you ever cook it? _was the question Soi left unsaid. "Vegetables," she chose instead, following it with: "Fish. Is there someplace with fish?"

"No fish," she said, scurrying forward. "But vegetables, yes. Mother will take you to the vegetables."

Soi let out a sigh and followed Bolormaa, ducking and shouldering her way through the crowds as the warm sun began to hide itself behind the tallest of the tents. It was dusty inside the bazaar, the heat of feet trampling the dirt floor drying it from the night's rains and those same feet kicking orange dust into the air. She passed a kiosk that was selling nothing but riding boots; tall, plain, black casings of leather. A Caucasian couple was somehow admiring one pair over another, marveling at the novelty of them and planning on how to display them alongside the souvenir bow and quiver that the woman had on her back. Soi was reminded, with a touch of resentment, that the end of the world had not affected those that could afford to ignore it. Her eyes lingered on them as she walked past, her spite visible to anyone that was paying attention.

She almost ran into Bolormaa, who had stopped suddenly and was holding her arms out at a large table of produce, proudly. Soi examined the selection before turning her eyes to the owner. He was a rotund man, sitting heavily in a chair and fanning himself with a newspaper. He grimaced at his two customers. Especially at Bolormaa.

"What do you want old marmot?" he asked, leaning back into his seat further as if he we telling the both of them that he wasn't about to prove useful. "You just left me alone this morning."

"It's not for me, _Buuz_," she replied harshly, sounding to Soi Fon like the city's resident nagging spinster. "It is for the Little Thing."

"Oh?" he quipped with sarcastic interest, ceasing his fanning long enough to look at Soi Fon and spit into the dirt. He fanned himself again. "I have to sell my labor to this Chinese?"

"You shut your mouth," Bolormaa hissed, her eyes hard behind her sunglasses. "She is a demonlord. You show her respect!"

The man stopped fanning altogether, his hand dropping with his eyes to the sword strapped to Soi Fon's back. He glanced back up and met her steel-colored irises, glaring into them. If he thought for a moment that he was going to outdo the small woman he had just insulted, he quickly abandoned the hope and glanced down to spit in the dirt again.

"You bother me too much, Bolormaa. Too much with these Heroes," he said, the last word coming out with a regality that slightly awed Soi Fon. She glanced at Bolormaa, who was beaming.

"For the Heroes," she said with a broad smile, the word once more sounding sacred, "there is no charge."

Soi Fon felt her eyes widen and her lips part in incredulous surprise. Then she smiled at the old matron's wide grinning face, the appropriate gratitude faltering in her throat, and turned back to the vegetable stand. The kiosk's grumpy owner met her eyes for a moment before turning around in his chair completely, taking ownership of the table behind him in hopes that he would make his money from that side of the tent. Soi let her backpack fall from her shoulder and Bolormaa took it without a word and unzipped it, holding it open for the Shinigami to fill with gourds and squash and carrots and onions.

Soi gripped the vegetables swiftly but selectively, not wanting to abuse the generosity of the stand's owner. She zipped the backpack shut and took it from Bolormaa's hands. She shouldered it again, turning to the patron with a smile. He was doggedly avoiding her side of the tent and Soi shot a questioning look a Bolormaa. The old woman rolled her eyes behind her orange lenses and waved a dismissive hand and led her back through the bazaar.

Soi's mood had lifted immensely. She looked about the market place, at the bustling people darting back and forth underneath the slits of light that cut between the tops of the tents, at the men and women selling food to put food on their tables, selling clothing to put clothes on their backs. She smiled even as she saw the Caucasians walking with a pair of matching boots, laughing with their smiles as Bolormaa lead her out of the bazaar. Soi had traveled across the globe and back and it had become too easy to forget the defining characteristic of humanity: appreciation. She had witnessed horror and fear and xenophobia and hostility, but the trait that almost every human had shown to her was gratitude. For simply being a Shinigami, the people she had protected loved her.

"Hey hey hey!" Bolormaa clucked behind her, swatting her fat palms at a pair of grimy hands that were prying into Soi Fon's backpack. Soi spun and glared at a little pickpocket, the girl running away and joining a group of friends and giggling at being caught. Soi continued to glower, but she felt the corner of her mouth twist up in a smile. She gripped the handle of her sword and mocked a lunge, the pack of children squealing and scattering at her empty threat. They re-coalesced quickly and Soi Fon laughed.

And then she felt it. _Something_ was following her. Her smile fell. She didn't know what it was. She could feel it at the edge of her consciousness. It was almost like _reiatsu, _but it was… different. It was empty, vacant. There was nothing behind the energy signature, as though it was the ghost of a ghost. She remembered Yumichika saying something about it a week ago, but the group had been quick to dismiss his suspicions. Hisagi had mentioned it too, but neither of the two Shinigami could explain the feeling properly. Now she understood why.

_It's after the Shinigami, _she realized suddenly, alarmed, glancing at Bolormaa out of the corner of her eye. _It's after me._

"Bolormaa," Soi said, turning to face the old woman. "I think I'm going to take a look around town by myself for a little bit, okay?" She smiled thinly, hoping that she was hiding her rising anxiety. Bolormaa smiled and spoke, but Soi was trying to search the bazaar from her peripheral vision. She couldn't see anything without turning her head fully and she didn't want to let the old woman know that something was wrong.

Soi Fon didn't want her follower to see she'd discovered it.

"Okay Little Thing," Bolormaa finished, walking away, "Mother will see you tonight for dinner."

Soi Fon turned and put on a pleasant smile and watched her go, forcing a chuckle as the matron theatrically took another swat at the group of thieving urchins. Soi waited until she was well down the street, her shadow long in the orange light, and turned, walking briskly away from the market. If this thing was after her, she needed to get as far away from the crowds as possible. She knew she wouldn't have enough time to get out of the city completely, but if she could put distance between herself and the highly populated square, the people in it could run once the fight started.

She ducked into an alley and could feel it around her. She couldn't tell if it was behind her or next to her or above her. The sensation had ceased claiming any sort of direction. It was ubiquitous. It felt as though it was right in front of her, but she couldn't see anything other than the thinning alleyway. She wanted to turn her head and look over her shoulder and attack, but she couldn't risk starting the battle in such a tight space. Then it was right behind her. Now she could feel it, hear it approaching. She no longer had a choice. She stopped and reached her hand behind her back to grip _Suzumebachi's _handle.

Another hand clasped hers gently.

A voice spoke softly in her ear.

His breath was like a kiss against her cheek.

"Easy there, little captainess."

"_Oh," _she said in a half moan, in a half sigh, and spun around to face Grimmjow, her hand coming up to touch his face as she thrust her body into his, her mouth into his, her lips touching his rapidly again and again as she smelled him and tasted him and she kissed him more and more and he returned her kisses, he returned each one of them, and she moaned and sighed "_oh, oh, oh."_

* * *

Kuchiki Byakuya walked next to Unohana Retsu down the train platform, the orange in the sky slowly giving way to blushes of blue and pink and violet. The moon, just past full, was already climbing towards the roof of the sky. Ahead, Yoruichi was practically skipping alongside Urahara Kisuke, the dark-skinned woman obviously excited to see him again. Byakuya slipped his hands into his pockets and allowed a meager smile to grace his lips at the display of affection. He'd known Yoruichi since he was a small boy and, despite the obvious pleasure she still gleaned from annoying him, she was one of his oldest friends and seeing her happy was always a pleasant sight. Urahara removed himself from her, almost forcibly, and turned around with a dramatic bow.

"I've forgotten my manners," he said with practiced despair, coming up and extending a hand. "How have you been, Captain Kuchiki?"

"Now that Captain Unohana and yourself have returned safely," he said, shaking the hand once, firmly, "I'm feeling worlds better."

"Oh, tell me about it," Urahara blurted with a laugh as the quartet exited the train station and took to the main sidewalk. "Once I met back up with Captain Unohana op Wednesday, I felt a thousand times better."

"What do you mean by that?" Byakuya said, his pleasant tone replaced with the one he normally left reserved for the disciplining of servants. "You're not implying that the two of you separated on this mission?"

Ahead of him, Yoruichi snickered and rolled her eyes.

"Of course we did," Urahara said with a wide smile, as though it were obvious; the noble's grave expression was not effective on his pleased demeanor.

"I thought you had planned to finish these preparations together?"

"We did. And then I had to take care of some other things."

"Other things? Such as?"

"You should know better than to ask him that," Yoruichi piped up with another snicker, "Byakuya-boy."

The Kuchiki heir stopped on the sidewalk, stalling the group across the street from the hotel.

"If it makes you feel any better, Captain Kuchiki," Unohana said with a smile that she intended to end the spat with, "he wouldn't tell me either."

"That doesn't make me feel better in the least," Byakuya shot back indignantly. "As clever as they might make you feel, Urahara Kisuke, I think that we are beyond the need for your secrets."

Urahara's smile fell and his brows furrowed, but he wasn't looking at Byakuya. He was looking past him, over his shoulder. His mouth fell open and slowly turned into a wry smile. "Well ain't that a hell of a thing," he said, his smile growing. Yoruichi's eyes widened and her hand flew up to her open mouth. Byakuya turned, looked across the street, and gasped lightly.

It was Soi Fon and Grimmjow. They were walking together, their hands clasped into one, and she was leading him, their arms pulled taut as he lagged slightly behind as though his hand was the leash keeping her from running through the streets but his own magnificent smile kept pushing her forward ever faster.

"I should…" Urahara began, taking a step toward the reunited lovers. "I should probably go talk to him about—"

"_Kisuke, don't you dare." _Yoruichi's voice stopped him cold. He turned and looked at her, his mouth opening sheepishly but she wasn't looking at him anymore. She was smiling widely at exuberant couple.

"They deserve tonight," she said, beaming, watching as they entered the hotel.

* * *

**_author's note_**

:D

**Brian Eno - By This River**


	20. Of These, Hope

_**Of These, Hope**_

_In his slowly waking mind, he remembers the feel of when he saw her. Small and smiling, pretending to threaten a group of children near the dusty sidewalks. His heart had leapt coldly in his chest, the frigid combination of joy and surprise spreading and tingling through his body like a spider web. He didn't mind chasing her. It was what he'd done for so long. She had been an objective for two years. A mission, a goal. And now she was in front of him again._

Grimmjow woke to birdsong and a mid-morning sky. Well, not really birdsong—more like birdmachinegunfire. The swallow sounded like it was just outside of his window, holding down the trigger to whatever rapid-fire weapon it had in its throat. He groaned and slipped his pillow over his head, pressing down over his ear. Pointless. He sat up with a groan and looked out the window as his thoughts hazily collected. His blue eyes took in the landscape outside his window; spring trees blanketed the valley, their limbs caught between white blossoms and fresh green buds. Blinking at the outside, he pinched the bridge of his nose to squeeze away his grogginess. He hadn't slept much the night before.

He looked over at Soi Fon, sleeping with her back to him. Absurdly, he realized that he had been afraid that she wouldn't be there when he looked. He reached out to touch the skin of her back, trailing a finger lightly up her spine to her neck. He slid closer to her and she sleepily tucked into his chest. He reached around and pulled her into him, his forearm resting between her breasts. She seemed smaller. She'd lost weight. He wondered if it was her trek across the world that had claimed her assassin's figure, or the entire two years outside of Soul Society. Leaning forward, he kissed the back of her head, his finger trailing up her neck to tousle the black mop gently.

Soi sighed and rolled over to face him, waking. She looked at him blankly for a moment, rising from sleep, and smiled.

"Mornin'," he said, kissing her.

"You look silly with brown hair."

"And here I was about to _compliment_ your new haircut," he said, feigning hurt. He didn't give a shit about his _gigai's_ hair color. He hadn't picked it and it wasn't permanent.

"I thought you liked my braids?" she asked, a pale hand coming up to clutch his in her tangled hair.

"I like _you_."

"Oh," she said with a pretty smirk, "he's clever."

She kissed him and curled up next to him under the sheet. He looked at the wall, where an ancient clock ticked loudly. It was almost ten in the morning. They'd only slept for three hours. He had talked with her most of the night, only forcing sleep when the first shades of lavender appeared outside their window. They'd lost themselves in stories of Soi's life between Hueco Mundo and now, her time in Iceland and her journey to Ulaanbaatar. She hadn't asked about _Las Noches. _He hadn't offered to talk about it.

A quiet knock rapt on the door. It sounded hesitant. Soi groaned softly and very slightly tightened her hold on him.

"That's for me," he said, slowly edging his way to the side of the bed.

"I know," she pouted. He'd never seen her pout before. It was cute. He kissed her again and she let go of him. They both knew who it was at the door. He slid out from under the sheets and plucked his jeans up from the floor with a groan. His core muscles ached deep under the skin of his stomach. He hadn't used them in a while.

Grimmjow buttoned his jeans, grimacing at how damp they still were. They smelled like sweat and mildew.

"If you leave them here," Soi said, understanding his frown and slipping on a pair of shorts, "the twins will wash them for you."

"Yeah, but then I'd be walking around naked all day."

"So?"

"How tall is Urahara?" he asked, ignoring her joke. He might be able to borrow the other man's clothes. _Too bad Renji didn't make it, _he thought as he tugged his dirty shirt over his head and reached the door. _His clothes would have fit._

He opened the door to Urahara Kisuke smiling sheepishly.

"Nope," Grimmjow sighed over his shoulder, "too short."

"Good morning," Urahara said, oblivious to the insult. "Can we borrow you for a few hours?" He was smiling, but the request had a sharp edge to it. Grimmjow had always admired the scientist's ability to threaten people so nicely. Yoruichi and Unohana were behind Urahara. Grimmjow wondered if they were there for backup.

"Yeah yeah," Grimmjow grumbled, stepping out of the room. "I'm surprised you gave us this long."

"Sometimes it is best," Unohana said, greeting him with a small bow, "to rest the heart as well as the body. Please follow me, Grimmjow."

Soi watched as the Captain-commander led him down the hall and then turned her attention to Urahara.

"Aren't you just _dying_ to go pick his brain?"

"Very much," Urahara said, his grin widening. "But first I have a present for you."

She shot him a suspicious look, instinctively taking a step away.

"How does a new _gigai _sound?" he asked grandly. "One with two arms?"

Soi didn't know how to respond. Her eyes flicked from Urahara to Yoruichi. Her friend's smile was wide, her eyes were beaming. This wasn't a prank. Soi turned back to Urahara, her own grin curving wryly.

"And you couldn't give me one two years ago?"

"I just can't please little Soi Fon," Urahara Kisuke asked with an exasperated sigh, turning to Yoruichi with fake woe. "Can I?"

* * *

Yumichika came out of the kitchen, pushing the swinging doors open with his back, a pair of Styrofoam cups in his hands. He'd picked up a love for coffee while he'd lived in Manhattan, and this was the first time he'd had the chance for a cup since he'd left the States. Everyone else in the world seemed to prefer tea. He'd gone into the kitchen earlier to try and grab some breakfast, but the smell of the freshly ground beans had wrested away all desire for anything else. He'd found himself bouncing towards the pot, the twins giggling at his sudden prissy strut. Looking down at the coffee maker, he'd all but grimaced. The glass pot was probably as old as he was. He'd poured himself a cup and drank. The coffee was nearly as old as the pot. It tasted awful. It was intoxicating.

_I miss my hundred-dollar bill mug, _he thought as he carried two disposable cups back toward the rooms. He hoped that Ichigo was awake, but he wasn't, the coffee would do the trick. Yumichika was terribly bored. For almost two years, he'd been constantly moving, constantly thinking about the immediate future. Now he wasn't and it was messing with his brain. He'd woken up early, played some pool with Lilynette and Hisagi, meditated, and then nearly drove himself up the wall. Now he needed something to do, someone to talk to. He'd be damned if Ichigo was gonna forsake him forever.

He turned to go down the hallway of rooms, stepping aside for Unohana and Grimmjow. The Arrancar nodded at him in a quick greeting. Yumichika returned it as the two passed, tossing in a cheery wink . He wondered briefly why he'd felt the urge to wink. Then he stopped.

"What the fuck?"

He turned and looked back over his shoulder but the two had already disappeared around the corner. He furrowed his brow and kept walking, unsure if the sudden rush of caffeine hadn't caused him to hallucinate. He passed Soi Fon, standing in her doorway, Urahara and Yoruichi just outside. She was laughing. Yumichika caught her eyes for a moment and they were laughing too. She was happy. He knew he hadn't been seeing things. Grimmjow was back.

_Damn, _he thought with a chuckle as he approached Ichigo's door. _I'll be playing a lot of catch-up today. _He cradled both of the coffees in one hand and knocked on the door loudly. He knew that Byakuya was on guard-duty this morning, and nobody had seen Ichigo leave the hotel. It was already past ten; if the bastard was still asleep then he deserved a harsh wake-up call. And maybe a kick in the ass.

Yumichika went to knock again when the door unlatched and pulled open. Ichigo stood smiling, shirtless. Yumichika grinned at his friend's face and then a movement inside the room caught his eye: a spilling of wavy hair, cascading down a graceful naked back, upon the pale skin a large tattoo of the number _**3**__. _Yumichika tilted his head to see better. Ichigo leaned over in a casual attempt to obscure the view. Yumichika snapped his attention back to Ichigo again.

"I'll—uh—" he stammered. "I'll wait out here."

Ichigo laughed and reached out for one of the coffees. "I'll be right out," he said taking the cup and closing the door.

Yumichika blinked and looked around, hoping that maybe someone else had seen what he'd just seen. The other three had vanished. Perhaps he _was _hallucinating. He leaned against the opposite wall, hearing murmured nothings coming out of the room across from him. He sipped the coffee in his hand, turning his head to the side and looking down the hallway toward the main room, his violet eyes searching idly for Grimmjow again. He let a hand hang loosely in his pocket.

The door opened and Neliel stepped out, barefoot and letting one of Ichigo's shirts hang just above mid-thigh. She gripped a bundle of clothing in her arms. Yumichika smirked and raised his cup at her and she blushed. He snapped another wink as she darted across the hall to her room. She fiddled with the door for a moment, gave him a silly smile, and ducked inside. Ichigo came out of his room, smiling warmly as always. If he was particularly proud, he didn't show it.

_Typical_.

"How've you been, Yumichika?" he asked as they walked back to the main room.

Yumichika laughed at the question. It was almost absurd. They sat at the corner table; the one he'd seen Ichigo and Neliel at yesterday afternoon, before they had disappeared for the night. Yumichika wanted to say something, to ask Ichigo for details. He decided against it. Ichigo didn't strike him as one to kiss and tell.

"I've been better," Yumichika replied, taking a drink of his coffee. Ichigo did as well, his first sip. The orange-haired Shinigami soured his face down at the cup. Yumichika laughed. "It's terrible isn't it?"

"_God, yes_," Ichigo choked in reply, looking around the room. "Worst part is that I know they don't have any sugar in this place."

Yumichika laughed again. "How about you? Seem to be doing alright?" Again, an opportunity to ask about Neliel that he let pass.

"You could say that."

"Find what you were looking for?" Yumichika asked, sipping his coffee. "Out in the desert?"

"I did," Ichigo said. "Did you?"

_When the hell did everyone get so fucking cryptic?_ Yumichika thought, Lisa's speech from yesterday echoing in his mind. "Didn't know I was looking for anything," he chose to say.

"Back then," Ichigo said, giving the beverage one more chance, "I think we all were."

"Yeah, I guess so," Yumichika sighed. "I think I got close. To finding it."

"Yeah?"

"Or to finding out what it was, at least."

"Then that means you're only getting closer," Ichigo said with a smile that could melt ice. "Taking a step forward is better than staying a step back."

"Christ," Yumichika laughed. "You don't have a negative bone in your fucking body, do you?"

"Not after I got rid of it," Ichigo said as Neliel entered the room.

Yumichika smirked at her. "Good morning, Neliel," he said.

She blushed again, lightly. She sat next to Ichigo, her embarrassment not enough to keep from touching her shoulder with his. Before Yumichika could take the opportunity break his dike of diplomacy and crack a joke, Yadomaru Lisa burst into the room from the front door. She slipped a pair of sunglasses up onto her forehead.

"Soi Fon's boytoy is here," she said, striding over to the table and sitting next to Yumichika. "When the hell did that happen?"

_I knew I wasn't seeing things._

"Grimmjow?" Neliel asked, looking over her shoulder as though he would be following Lisa into the room. "Where is he?" She looked a little troubled.

"He was walking with Unohana," Lisa replied. "They were going to the building across the street."

Neliel was still looking out the window, her olive eyes flicking rapidly and looking even more troubled.

Ichigo's brows furrowed. "Nel? What's wrong?"

"If Grimmjow's here…" she trailed off, her eyes staring into the middle distance.

"Then Aizen let him come," came Urahara's sing-song reply. They turned to face him but he walked past them and toward the door. He grinned at their questioning faces. "Why? That's what we're gonna spend the day figuring out." He strolled out of the room, swinging the doors of the hotel wide as he stepped outside. They watched him through the window as he turned and strolled down the sidewalk and turned back to each other.

"Is he always like that?" Yumichika asked.

"Shifty?" Soi Fon called, walking past their table and toward the kitchen, a pair of grocery bags in each of her hands. "As long as I've known him."

_Hands. Multiple hands. Two hands._ Yumichika's jaw dropped and he stood up quickly.

"Now _that_ is something I want to know about," he said, not really caring if anyone else noticed what he was looking at. His attention was focused completely on the small woman that had just stepped through the swinging doors.

"While you're in there, Yumichika," Lisa said, smirking, "make me a sandwich."

He shot a smirk over his shoulder. "Nope."

He pushed the doors open and almost immediately ran into one of the twins. They were rushing around in the kitchen, grabbing vegetables out of Soi Fon's bag and washing them in a deep, stainless-steel sink. Soi was at a countertop, slicing a gourd over a plastic cutting board. With _both _hands. Yumichika smiled and walked over to her, leaning an elbow on the counter.

"So I see you've gained two—" he paused and looked around for a moment before focusing on her. "Servants."

"Bolormaa's making them do it," she said, ignoring his quip and watching one of the girls place a clean bundle of carrots on the counter. "I didn't ask for their help."

Still, she was grateful for it. She'd cooked large meals by herself before, but that had been a while ago. She wasn't sure if she could do it now. Having assistance was often a necessity in the kitchen, especially when making as much food as she planned. Looking up from the cutting board, she pointed with her left hand—_her new hand—_at a pan hanging from a rack above the sink. One of the twins grabbed it and brought it over, but Soi pointed again at the stove. The girl scuttled over and placed it over the small flame.

"You seem to be ordering them around just fine," Yumichika said as he poured a cup of vile coffee. "You sure you don't want them?"

"Is there something I can help you with, Yumichika?" Soi asked, looking up from cutting to glare at him. "Or are you just here to pester me?" She looked back down in time to see the edge of her knife slip on the waxy skin of the gourd. She pulled her hand away, hissing as the knife's edge drew blood along the side of her finger. She dropped the blade onto the cutting board and squeezed her bleeding finger tightly.

"Easy there, tiger," Yumichika said, sipping from his cup, "you just got that thing back."

She glowered up at him, but her grimace turned into a little smile. "Get the hell out of my kitchen," she said with a laugh, tossing a chunk of onion at him. He balked theatrically and fled through the swinging doors. Soi returned pressure to her cut and turned to look for a bandage to wrap her finger in. One of the twins was behind her, an adhesive strip already held out in offering.

"Thank you," Soi said, peeling paper away from the sticky side of the bandage.

"Narantuyaa," Bolormaa said, hobbling into the kitchen. Soi turned, somewhat perplexed at the phrase. Bolormaa then nodded toward the twin at the sink and spoke, "Sarangerel." Soi looked at the two girls for a moment and realized that those where their names. Narantuyaa and Sarangerel. Then she realized that she hadn't known their names until now. Nobody did. They just referred to them as 'the twins'. She looked back at Bolormaa, slightly ashamed at not having bothered to learn the names of the helpful daughters. If the matron was aware of Soi's embarrassment, she didn't show it.

"I am very sorry," Bolormaa said, clutching the knife from the countertop "This should be more sharp."

"It's nothing," Soi said, pulling the bandage tight over her cut. "I wasn't paying attention. I was too busy yelling at prissy-boy over there."

Bolormaa laughed and quickly slid the blade across a grey whetstone a few times, handing it back to Soi Fon in a moment. Soi resumed dicing through the vegetables, noticing from her peripheral vision that Bolormaa and her daughters were working in tandem at cleaving apart spare ribs, washing rice, boiling water. Soi finished the vegetables and turned around, setting them in the old saucepan over the flame. She moved over to the next table, helping the Mongolians prep the meat. The door swung open behind her.

"Well if this ain't the most sexist damn thing I've ever seen," Lilynette barked, stepping into the kitchen. "Nearly every woman in the building is in the kitchen."

"Keep that shit up," Soi chided, "and I'll put you to work, too."

"The hell you will," Lilynette shot back, leaping up onto a spare counter, her small legs dangling over the edge, her Converse swinging back and forth as she watched the activity in front of her. "So," she said after a pause filled by the sound of knives, "you happy he's back?"

"Grimmjow?"

"No, your _other_ boyfriend."

"Don't get snappy with me, girlie," Soi Fon said, spinning around and dumping a handful of beef chunks into a tall pot of boiling water. She tossed the veggies up in the pan. "Especially if you're gonna ask stupid questions."

Lilynette smirked and kept dangling her feet.

"So, is that your husband?" Bolormaa asked, the twins snickering as they worked. "The tall one?"

Soi felt her cheeks warm up. She tried to focus on the spare ribs as if she hadn't heard the question, but everyone knew she had. As happy as she was that Grimmjow was back, she still didn't care for discussing her relationship. It was inexplicable way to act, she knew, but it felt odd to express her feelings out loud. She tried to be steel on the outside because on the inside she was as fragile as a bird's egg. And she didn't want to let anyone know it. Especially by answering Bolormaa's question.

Lilynette, seemingly sympathetic to Soi's blight, came to the rescue. "Isn't there a Mr. Bolormaa?"

The silence in the air was almost louder than the bubbling water. Soi's eyes darted to the younger woman's face, a pained look in her grey eyes. Lilynette glanced around at the silent faces before settling on the Shinigami's. Her own irises widened as she realized her faux pas.

"My Tömöroktybr has been dead for eighteen months now," Bolormaa said. "He died when the first demons appeared." Her voice didn't quiver or show emotion. She was simply stating a fact. Lilynette opened her mouth to utter an apology, but nothing came out. Soi Fon cut the rest of the ribs and rapidly reached for more. Bolormaa spun and quickly grabbed the pile, a smile on her face.

"But he did not go without a fight," she said, pride apparent in her words. "He fought against the first wave of the demons. He had his old rifle, the one his father got from the Soviets. He never looked as magnificent as when he left us that afternoon."

"Lil?" Hisagi said, opening the door and poking his head in. "I thought you were making us some food?"

She hopped of the counter and darted over to him, her hands clamping over his cheeks and her lips pressing into his. They pulled away after a few moments, Hisagi's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Okay, then," he said. "What was that for?"

"Let's go out to eat, you goon," she said, grabbing his hand and tugging him through the doors. She glanced at the three Mongolian women, their shattered family, and hurried out of the kitchen.

Soi Fon sighed, turning back to her assistants. Bolormaa was still smiling, the pride in her face replaced by sorrow.

* * *

Unohana Retsu walked down the sidewalk and stopped, allowing the distance between her and Urahara and Grimmjow to grow. She let out a heavy sigh and looked east. The wind was picking up and the wall of clouds had grown taller, the charcoal-colored tower eclipsing the pink and orange of the young evening sky. A faint growl of thunder crawled through the street, carried by a warm breeze. She closed her eyes and breathed in the petrichor, brought to her nose early by the wind. With another sigh, she resumed her walk, apologizing for the delay with only a calm smile. Urahara and Grimmjow didn't respond.

They knew what was bothering her. If everything Grimmjow had told her today was true, then they were in trouble. This rag-tag group of tired Shinigami, the last of the Gotei's legacy, was in for a hard battle. Aizen's forces had nearly doubled, if not in number, then certainly in strength. It was a comfort to hear Lisa's claims proved true—that the Vizards were truly on the Shinigami's side—and that Ulquiorra and the _Terceira_ Espada were planning to aide them when the time came. These comforts, however, paled in comparison to the difficult fight they had ahead of themselves.

Urahara turned left and split from the group without explanation, ducking into the alleyway that led behind the hotel. Unohana had long ago learned not to ask where Urahara Kisuke was going. He never explained himself, but she never felt like he had to. She trusted him fully. Another low threat of thunder made her wonder, however, if he didn't mind getting wet.

They stepped into the hotel, the warmth and smell of food hitting them immediately. Unohana watched as Grimmjow immediately strolled across the room and took a tray from Soi Fon, placing it down onto the buffet where an entire line of dishes was prepared. The small Shinigami grinned and draped her arms around the Arrancar's shoulders, pulling him down to her for a slow kiss. Unohana smiled at the reunited lovers, feeling through their display of affection how hard the two years apart had been for them, understanding how happy they both were now.

She remained by the doorway, her soft eyes drifting across the faces in the building—at the band of pilgrims that had toiled so painfully to stand in this room. Hisagi Shuuhei was sitting at one end of a bench to her right, plucking at the world's oldest guitar, wearing the biggest smile she'd ever seen on him. The young Arrancar that he'd taken captive so long ago, Lilynette Gingerback, was stretched across the rest of the bench, her head resting on the his free knee as she looked up at him from his lap.

Neliel Tu Oderschvank, the abandoned Arrancar, was standing next to Kurosaki Ichigo, the young man already taking his place by the buffet. He was pointing at her with a stick of beef, making as silly of a face as he could while another stuck out of his mouth. She playfully swatted at it and he reacted in kind, pulling his mouth away before replaying the taunt. Next to them at a table sat Kuchiki Byakuya and Shihouin Yoruichi, the two old friends lost in conversation—Byakuya's face near expressionless, Yoruichi's large and boisterous.

Unohana's eyes slid over the room to the far window. Ayasegawa Yumichika was sitting on the windowsill, his arm hanging down and out of the building, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. He passed a thin flask to Yadomaru Lisa and she took a swig and returned it, furrowing her brow and resuming whatever tirade she was unleashing on him. He smirked and rolled his eyes, his violet irises twirling and coming to rest on Unohana. He smiled at her and looked away, flicking his cigarette out the window and strolling across the room towards her. He made it to the center of the room and stopped, standing erect and looking forward.

Hisagi noticed and arched an eyebrow before placing his guitar down onto the couch and walking to where Yumichika was standing. Lilynette glanced at him questioningly as he placed himself next to the other Shinigami. She hopped up from the bench and stood behind him. Byakuya and Yoruichi noticed them after a moment and took up positions in the line, swiftly followed by Soi Fon and Grimmjow, the latter behind the former. Ichigo appeared near the end of the line, Neliel behind him. He looked at Unohana and gave her a broad and expectant smile. Unohana Retsu looked at him with slight confusion before it finally dawned on her.

They were forming rows for their Captain-commander.

Her cheeks grew hot. The painfully nostalgic smell of Soi Fon's Japanese food whirled around her as a lump formed in her throat. The rows of Shinigami in front of her blurred slightly as warm tears began to well in her eyes. The thunder rumbled outside once more. She smiled and lowered her head, walking forward through the opening her Shinigami had prepared for her. She made it to the head of the rows, vacant in too many positions, and turned, smiling. She looked at the group and her eyes slid over to Lisa, who was still leaned against the wall.

"I don't believe you have any reason to be left out," Unohana said to the Vizard. "Yadomaru Lisa, would you please take your position in the line?"

Lisa looked surprised for only a moment, the rose color on her cheeks vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. She ducked her head, in either respect or stubborn embarrassment, and stepped into the gap in the row left by Kyoraku Shunsui. Unohana smiled warmly but the Vizard averted her eyes. The Captain-commander looked at the double rows, the gap-toothed smile of the Gotei 13, and she loved the faces that were present. This made the speech she needed to deliver all the harder to say. She struggled for her opening words.

"This is not going to be easy." The words hung in the air for a few moments. The group in front of her did not stir at the news. Another crack of thunder from outside. It began to rain. Unohana sighed. "Grimmjow has told us about Aizen's forces. They outnumber us. Their strength eclipses ours. We hold allies on the other side, but they are not enough to even the scales." She took another breath, her blue eyes meeting each of theirs. "We may be in trouble."

The silence held again, longer. The rain continued to patter on the roof of the hotel, over the dry, dusty streets. A foreign noise suddenly emerged from the rows. Its place was not in the room, not at that moment. The familiar sound did not belong at all. But it was there. It took Unohana a few moments to understand what she was hearing: Yumichika's laughter.

"Way to be a fucking downer, Captain," he said, another pretty chuckle escaping his lips. The room, suddenly perplexed, smiled uneasily at him. He continued. "We didn't come here thinking that this was the end of the road. We're not standing here expecting to live in this hotel forever. Whatever we gotta do to get back home," his eyes swept over the room, landing on her. "We're gonna fucking do it. No use acting like we're afraid when we're all dying to fight."

Unohana stared at him, unsure of how to respond. Byakuya replied for her.

"Spoken like a true member of the Eleventh Division," he said sharply, but not harshly. The atmosphere of the room lifted at the noble's joke. Even the rain seemed to lighten.

"Hell," Ichigo chimed in, "I don't think you need to be in the Eleventh to agree with him." He turned to face Unohana, grinning broadly. "Captain, we await your orders."

She nodded and continued. "According to Grimmjow, the Espada against us consist of the _Primera, Segunda, Sexta, _and _Octava. _Ulquiorra and the _Terceira_ are on our side." She looked at Lisa. "As are the rest of the Vizards."

"That's not too bad," Hisagi said with an uncomfortable chuckle. "I was expecting worse. Even against Aizen and Ichimaru, we aren't that bad off." The look on his face was expectant. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Unohana didn't disappoint him.

"Aizen has also converted several captives into Vizards soldiers," she said. "He has fused himself with the _hougyoku _and has stripped them of their free-will. They follow his commands without question."

"Who?" Lisa asked in a growl. "Who else did he convert?"

"Kyoraku Shunsui we already knew," Unohana said, her eyes gliding over everyone in the room. Their faces hovered on the precipice of hope and dread as they waited for her to continue. If a name was spoken, then they were a survivor. But they were also an enemy. Unohana cleared her throat. "He also has control over Kira Izuru, Ikkaku Madarame, Komamura Sajin," she trailed off her eyes resting on Byakuya in silent apology, "Isane Kotetsu, and Kuchiki Rukia."

The noble's eyes closed and he spoke after a moment of silence. "How deep is the control over their minds?"

"Almost total," Grimmjow said, answering before Unohana could. He'd seen it. "They've still got their brains in there, their personalities. But they've been corrupted to serve Aizen. They _want _to serve him."

"I see," Byakuya said. "And if we destroy Aizen, does the spell break?"

"Yeah," Yumichika said, his tone betraying his level of concern for Ikkaku. "Is this like the hypnosis?"

"I'm afraid it's not so simple," Urahara Kisuke said, coming into the room from the storm. He was soaked from the rain. His lower lip was split and a line of blood dribbled down his chin. He didn't call attention to his disheveled state. Neither did Yoruichi. He walked through the rows and stood next to the Captain-commander. "If Aizen has fused himself with the _hougyoku, _then killing him won't be enough to reverse the effects on their minds."

"Then we destroy the _hougyoku _as well?" Soi Fon asked, her tone far less incensed than Yumichika or Byakuya's faces were. "Will that allow for their recovery?"

"Possibly," Urahara said. "But we also run the risk of destroying them." He looked at Lisa. "And everyone who has ever been altered by the _hougyoku._"

Yadomaru Lisa's focus remained on Urahara, though the rest of the room's was on her. She growled at him, her thin lips curving up bestially.

"You're such a bastard," she hissed. "Does Shinji know this?"

"I can assume he's considered it," Urahara replied.

"How high are the chances of it affecting us?"

"Enough for you to be worried."

"But it will kill Aizen?"

"Absolutely."

"Then I guess that's the plan then, isn't it?" Lisa asked, resigning herself to the greater good. "How do we destroy the damn thing?"

"We need to yank it out of Aizen first," Urahara said, turning to Unohana. "Captain? Our strategy for doing that would be?"

Unohana sighed. "Grimmjow said that Aizen will be in the center of the First Division, with his forces evenly distributed in rings throughout _Seireitei._"

"Deceptively simple," Yumichika said.

"And almost certainly a trick," Soi Fon said. "I don't see him adhering to a plan he allowed Grimmjow to hear."

"But it's better than nothing," Hisagi remarked, taking up Yumichika's argument. "Even if this plan has been thrown at us as bait, our only other course of action would be to rush in completely blind."

"Perhaps that would be better," Unohana chimed in, "than approaching the battlefield with misplaced strategies."

"Not to mention," Byakuya said, "Aizen may have assumed that Grimmjow would tell us this plan. He may have come up with another plan to counter us, assuming that we take Grimmjow's testimony as true."

"Jeez, you Shinigami are a bunch of windbags," Lilynette piped up. The room looked at her in slight surprise. "You even got Shuuhei to say more than ten words at a time." She looked up at the group. "Standing here and arguing about what Aizen _might_ do and what he's _gonna_ do ain't gonna get us anywhere. Make a decision and let's go for it."

"And simply throw caution to the wind?" Byakuya asked dismissively.

Lilynette snickered. "From what I know about Aizen, he's gonna be ready for us no matter what we do."

"And if we move fast," Grimmjow said, agreeing with his fellow Arrancar, "then we may luck out and strike before he's ready. _That's_ our best chance."

"Then we move as soon as possible," Unohana said, decisively. "The portal to _Hueco Mundo_ is still open in Karakura. We'll use a _garganta _to get there and then move cautiously to the gateway. Aizen may be expecting us, but with this plan, we'll be able to approach his front line cautiously."

She looked around the room and forced a smile. "But, for now, let's enjoy tonight."

The Gotei dispersed. Some ambled over to the buffet, others sat down and held soft discussions in little groups. Unohana Retsu moved to eat, but even the smell of the food could not encourage her.

* * *

**_author's note_**

_okay. remember that time that i said i would update twice a month? apparently i don't._

_sorry about the wait. five finals and three 12-page papers got in the way of my brain working. got some time off in the summer now, so hopefully i'll get the next ones out soon. the final battle is about to begin, and the next three chapters should be especially quick to get out. i hope. :/_

_as always, **reviews **__are super appreciated!_

**___jta~!_**

**___of these, hope - peter gabriel_**


	21. The Space Between Two Worlds : Leviathan

_**The Space Between Two Worlds**_

_**[Leviathan]**_

Ichigo ran through the _garganta, _thewhite pathway fragile and splintering beneath his feet.

They'd left Ulaanbaatar before the sun rose. Ichigo stumbled as another patch of white flooring crumbled beneath him. In the darkness of the _garganta, _he could barely make out the faces that peered over shoulders at him. He'd seen Yumichika's brows tighten once in confusion—Ichigo had long since struck a balance between power and control; he shouldn't be having a problem keeping the pathway solid. The most recent glances—Nel's of concern—Soi Fon's of disdain—made clear that he wasn't hiding his emotions as well as he'd hoped.

Kurosaki Ichigo was nervous.

This would be the first time he'd been to Karakura since Soul Society had been taken by Aizen. He had no way of knowing what condition his hometown—the place where he'd made his first friends and memories—was in.

He knew of the portal to _Hueco Mundo. _He knew that almost every Hollow in the world had slouched its way through the streets of Karakura, rampaging there before chewing its way across the rest of the globe. Ichigo did not know how bad the damage was. He couldn't know if anybody he'd known had escaped at the early signs of trouble. Did Chad and Tatsuki escape? Did Mizuiro's family run? How many people had been devoured in their homes when the sky tore open and Hell gnashed its teeth at the world?

Another footprint shattered, sending shards as white as snowflakes fluttering into the abyss.

The group stopped. They were here. He stared at the backs of his companion's heads—Nel, Yumichika, Soi Fon, Grimmjow. They were the five elected to draw the attention of Aizen's vanguard. The plan was simple: they head to the portal; if Ichigo's group needed to splinter off to fight Aizen's soldiers, then they would do so, jettisoning one member of the group at a time—Yumichika first, followed by himself, Nel, Grimmjow, and finally Soi Fon; this could serve as a distraction so that Unohana's team could open a _senkai_ gate; because of the proximity of the _senkai _gate and the massive _garganta _in the middle of town_, _their spiritual signal would be muffled and they'd be able to open a pathway directly into _Seireitei _without Aizen's immediate detection. While nobody was foolish enough to assume that Aizen was unprepared for their attack, gaining even a second of surprise might be enough for them to maintain an advantage.

Grimmjow stuck his finger into the blackness and turned his face over his shoulder. His blue eyes regarded Ichigo for a moment. The Shinigami looked away. Grimmjow sighed and opened the portal into Karakura.

There was fog. In the early morning light, Ichigo could see a lot of fog. He stepped out of the cool _garganta _and into the chilly morning, the mist snaking around his ankles as the portal's teeth closed behind him. He'd never seen this much fog in town before—there had always been too much traffic, too many people walking on the sidewalks. Such a heavy mist could never settle, even at this early an hour. Now, as his eyes scanned the fog, the silence of the town was painful.

He took a step forward and felt a brittle snapping beneath his shoe. He lifted his foot back and looked down at the thin pikes of white on the asphalt. His hand tightened into a loosely curled ball. While his foray into medicine had been cut short, he'd taken enough anatomy classes to recognize the bone on the street: it was a human ulna.

"Come on," Soi Fon said from ahead of him. "Let's get going."

Ichigo left his gaze on the shattered shaft for a moment longer. He looked up at her, but she'd already begun walking down the street, the rest of the team following her. Nel gave him a glance over her shoulder—one of obvious commiseration—but quickly focused ahead once more. Ichigo trailed behind.

The fog grew thicker as they got deeper into the city, the tangle of alleyways blocking the mist from the breeze of the river and the open streets. Every few blocks, Ichigo's heightened senses would snap to a shape in the corners of his vision. He'd turn, hoping to see a person, an animal, anything alive emerging through the white haze—but it was only ever a discarded garbage bin or abandoned ribcage.

They emerged from behind a café as the first rays of sunlight broke over the rooftops. The fog lit up as it continued its listless drift over the town. The newly illuminated horizon drew Ichigo's eyes to the edge of the street. They were standing at the riverbank, on the sidewalk where he would watch fireworks explode over the bridge on a warm summer evening. The remains of the bridge stretched up into the sunrise, its frame skeletal and shattered, its cables limp and dangling into the placid river below.

The fog in front of him glowed a bright red. Ichigo's eyebrows furrowed at the color that differed from the orange sunrise. A low rumble filled his ears and he leapt aside, avoiding the _cero _that plowed into the black surface of the river. A plume of water surged into the air, sending the fog spiraling outward into shapelessness.

They'd been discovered. As the river began to fall from the sky, he felt his companions vanish among the pattering water droplets. There was little need for secrecy now; Aizen had predicted their arrival. They needed to get to Soul Society as fast as possible. Ichigo prepared to use _shunpo_ and leave Yumichika behind to get to the center of town.

"I'm glad to see you haven't gotten slow," Madarame Ikkaku bellowed, "Yumichika!"

Ichigo froze. His eyes darted around, trying to locate the origin of Ikkaku's voice. The plan had been to leave Yumichika behind to handle the first attacker. But Ikkaku's presence changed everything. Ichigo saw them both and bolted forward. Ikkaku was already plummeting down from the sky, _Houzikimaru_ drawn. Yumichika was still looking around, his back turned to the coming attack.

Ichigo reached out and grabbed the shaft of Ikkaku's _shikai. _Yumichika turned and gasped—the spear's head was only inches from his face. Ikkaku's feral battle-grin faltered for a moment before it flashed bigger and he tore his weapon from Ichigo's grip and leapt away.

"I'll handle this," Ichigo said, turning his back to Yumichika and stepping between the two old friends. He couldn't let Yumichika fight Ikkaku. It presented too big of a risk. Urahara had hypothesized that it might be impossible to change the corrupted Shinigami back to their normal selves, that the grip of the _hougyoku _held them too tightly. Death might prove to be the only option for defeating any of them_._ While Ichigo hated the thought, he knew that he could kill Ikkaku if he needed to. He couldn't imagine Yumichika committing to that plan as easily.

Worse, he couldn't leave Yumichika alone on the sidewalk to kill his best friend.

"Thank you," Yumichika said before whispering away. Ichigo smiled.

"Ah, dammit," Ikkaku said through a sneer. "Why'd you run him off?"

"I thought you didn't do two-on-one-fights?"

"I didn't used to do a lot of things."

"Like kill your friends?"

"Blah blah blah," Ikkaku groaned, making a flapping mouth with his hand. "I knew you guys would say something boring like that. Besides," he said, his grin growing, "ain't that what you're about to do?"

"I'd rather not," Ichigo replied. "That's up to you, Ikkaku."

Ikkaku's grin fell once more, but stayed down. He lifted a hand to his forehead, his bald scalp gleaming in the sunrise. "I knew you'd say some shit like that, too."

Ikkaku launched himself forward, his bare feet pattering over the asphalt, a white mask obscuring his face. He lashed out with his spear, the shaft splitting and spinning and twisting as his wrists twirled. Ichigo brought his own large blade up and began to block, Ikkaku's strikes driving him back and into a defensive retreat. _Zangetsu's_ wide edge batted the spear aside, but Ikkaku was quick to whip it back around again. Ikkaku raked downward with the shaft, vanishing with a buzz as he struck. Ichigo turned and lifted his sword high over his head with both hands, bringing it down as Ikkaku appeared out of _sonído. _

"_Getsuga Tenshou,_" he said softly, bringing the zanpakuto screaming down, a bright gust of energy erupting from its tip and carving a wide crevasse into the street as it tore through an already ruined building.

Ikkaku buzzed back into sight behind him, his spearhead cutting a gash into the flesh of his shoulder blade. Ichigo gasped and whispered forward, his blood spattering on the vacant asphalt as he vanished. He appeared on top of the café, blood flowing freely down his arm.

He stared at Ikkaku's mask. The face was that of a Chinese dragon, scowling as its spiky brows furrowed and its mustache curled up along its cheeks. Ikkaku's golden eyes glowed out from its eye sockets and his battle-crazed grin shined out from behind the mask's four curved fangs. Ichigo frowned at the mask—he knew that the mask would take a shaped based on both the Shinigami and the Hollow inside. The grimacing face of the dragon, its teeth miserably bared, made Ichigo feel a welling sense of pity.

Ikkaku pulled the mask up and let it rest on his forehead. "You've had this kind of power all along and you never shared it with me?"

"Why would I have?"

"What a bullshit question," Ikkaku barked. "Have you forgotten me, you asshole? I love power! I love strength! Why wouldn't I want this for myself?"

"Because," Ichigo began, leveling his _shikai _at his old friend. "With this power comes a curse. Mine was the threat of mutiny…"

Ikkaku growled.

"…Yours is the promise of slavery."

"Bastard," Ikkaku hissed, leaping upward at Ichigo on the roof.

"_Bankai_."

Ichigo's thin black blade clashed against Ikkaku's spear. The shaft split and spun around, the edge looking to bite into Ichigo's temple. The Shinigami ducked and spun around, his shoulder touching Ikkaku's hip as he twirled around his opponent's back. He slashed sideways, hoping to slide his blade across the tendons of Ikkaku's ankles. The bald hybrid leapt up and back, flipping over Ichigo's head. He kicked his foot down onto the shock of orange hair, but his opponent had already sprung upward, his blade's tip jabbing forward at Ikkaku's jaw. He kicked Ichigo in the chest, sending the Shinigami flying away. Blood trickled through the air from Ichigo's lips. Ikkaku launched himself forward, vanishing and appearing directly in front of Ichigo. He smirked and let a _bala _loose, the red sphereslamming into Ichigo's gut.

"Come on, Ichigo!" Ikkaku yelled, his grin still wide. "I haven't kicked your ass this hard since you were just a kid! Don't tell me you've gotten this weak!"

Ichigo grimaced as he landed on the roof of another building. He reached a hand to the burnt hole in his shirt, the skin of his stomach now exposed. Sweat rolled down his cheeks. He leaned over to catch his breath, his eyes catching a glimpse at the building he was standing on top of. The green paint was peeling away and the windows were shattered. The sign was dilapidated and most of the letters were unreadable, but Ichigo didn't need to read the sign to know what it said: _Kurosaki Clinic. _Ikkaku appeared behind him then.

"Or maybe," he said, his grin proud as a _cero _swirled in his hand. "I'm just a better Hollow than you."

Ikkaku threw his fist forward, the crimson beam of energy rocketing Ichigo off the roof of his old home. The _cero _tore into the earth below, demolishing the buildings on the other side of the block as it shoved Ichigo along its length. The beam stopped, leaving Ichigo lying in a pile of smoke and rubble. Ikkaku let out a victorious laugh and leapt into the sky. He quickly dropped down, the spear gripped tightly in both hands as he aimed it down between his legs. He plowed through the dust and debris, crashing feet-first into the pavement below, _Houzikimaru's _spear now through Ichigo's chest, pinning him. With a final grunt, Ikkaku shoved the edge deeper into the pavement below Ichigo's torso.

"Sorry, buddy," Ikkaku said, pulling up his mask as he tugged the spear out of the concrete. "But you guys just don't got what it takes to beat Aizen. He's too—"

_Houzikimaru's_ shaft had no blood on it.

"Ikkaku," Ichigo said, his hand lifting to his face, "you're not the only one who's become more like a Hollow."

The last of the smoke cleared, revealing a Hollow-hole in Ichigo's chest. _Houzikimaru's_ shaft was sticking out from the black center of it. Ichigo's mask finished forming and, his brown eyes soft as he looked up at his old friend, he pulled it over his face.

A massive _cero _erupted from the mask's mouth, Ikkaku's body tumbling upwards as he was pushed away by the beam of energy. His mask shattered like china, but his body endured the blast. He twisted out of the surge of the _cero, _his charred chest heaving as he struggled for breath. He looked down at Ichigo, still on the street far below. Ikkaku grinned as the rising sun glinted off his head.

"So it's like that, eh Ichigo?" he asked, pulling his mask back and over his face. "_Bankai!"_

As soon as the massive weapon was released, Ikkaku began to spin it over his head, the pair of massive spades whirling through the air. The dragon crest almost immediately grew red to the halfway point.

"This is it," Ikkaku yelled down to the street. "The moment we've been destined to share since we met. Our final strike at sunrise!"

Ichigo didn't reply. The dragon's crest filled.

Ikkaku grinned. "Get ready for it, Ichigo."

He flew down, the massive center spade cutting through the air as he pushed it closer to his enemy. He cackled as he sank, the sunrise glinting off the blade of his sword, the orange of the morning glowing on his grimacing mask.

His blade stopped, taking his laughter with it. Ichigo was holding the edge of the spade with his bare hand. He looked over its surface at Ikkaku, his eyes red above the twin crimson lines below his sockets, glowing beside the pair of horns that curved out from the sides of the mask.

Ichigo's zanpakuto arced upwards, splitting Ikkaku's _bankai _in half while tearing open a trench in his torso. The massive weapon fell in two pieces, each landing on either side of its wielder's body. Ikkaku hacked up a dark wad of blood, staining his lips a deep red as it dribbled from the corners of his mouth to the puddle beneath his head. A ray of yellow sunlight knifed down from over a building, streaking across his eyes.

Ichigo stood over him, blocking the offending light, his mask gone and his eyes soft and brown. The hole in his chest was gone behind the fluttering of his tattered shirt. He leaned down and grabbed Ikkaku's zanpakuto, now resealed into a normal _katana. _He placed it by Ikkaku's side, just out of reach.

"Jeez," Ikkaku said, his eyes tired and squinting at Ichigo's silhouette in the morning sky. "Just like last time, eh?"

"Yeah," Ichigo replied, placing _Zangetsu_ on his back and sitting on the sidewalk next to Ikkaku.

"Except," Ikkaku wheezed, his voice gurgling against the blood in his throat. "Except you ain't gonna be nursing me back to health this time, are you?"

"I can't."

Ikkaku chuckled. "Finally. I thought you'd never grow a pair."

Ichigo stood, his head once more eclipsing the rising sun as he looked down at his friend.

"Live, Ikkaku," he said, turning away.

"Fuck you. Don't give me that bullshit."

"Live," Ichigo went on, "lay there until you can live outside of another man's shadow again."

Ichigo left Madarame Ikkaku, former captain of the Eleventh Division, in his own blood to make his decision.

* * *

Soi Fon flashed away at the explosion, hearing the twin buzzes of her Arrancar companions follow. She didn't feel Ichigo or Yumichika following. Coming into sight for a brief moment, she skipped off of a roofing tile, the clay disintegrating as she leapt into _shunpo _once more. She wondered if there had been two attackers. Her worry quenched itself—she was certain that Ichigo and Yumichika could handle whatever had ambushed their group.

_But would Aizen really send out two soldiers this early? _she wondered. _Wouldn't that leave _Seireitei _under-protected? Unless we've underestimated Aizen's forces. Or maybe he was simply that confident that we'd be here right now?_

An explosion rocked her out of her thoughts_. _She stopped on an exposed iron roofing beam and glanced toward the center of town. Another explosion erupted from the skyline, near where Unohana's team should be. Grimmjow and Neliel appeared next to her as a third bloom of smoke blossomed pink and orange in the sunrise.

"Shit," Grimmjow hissed. "He was ready for us."

"Should we help them?" Neliel asked.

"No," Soi replied. "Captain Unohana's team should certainly be capable of handling themselves."

"Then what should we do?" Grimmjow asked.

Soi didn't answer. She stared west, watching another plume rise into the morning. She felt a burst of energy behind her—belonging to Ichigo—and another, fainter one to the north which she recognized as Yumichika's. He was taking the outside route around town to get to the center. She grinned.

"Let's go south," Soi said. Grimmjow glanced west, toward the center of town. He didn't say anything, but Soi Fon could read his face. "Hopefully, we can avoid attention by taking a roundabout route to the center of town."

"You're the boss."

Before they could move, the building they were standing on began to crumble. They vanished, reappearing on three separate rooftops, their zanpakuto drawn. Soi's eyes darted through the dust and debris, looking for any sign of an attacker. The building had fallen slowly enough that it could have been simply from their weight on its weakened frame. But there was no need to be caught off guard.

Neliel buzzed next to her as the building she stood on began to crumble. The two women scanned the dust as their shared roof rumbled. They flashed away, reappearing in the sky. Grimmjow leapt up to join them, a _cero _charged in his palm. He flung his hand forward and tore at the ground with the crimson beam. The _cero _suddenly flung itself away, crashing down the alley. The smoke, cleared by the repulsion of Grimmjow's attack, revealed the hulking body Komamura Sajin below, his zanpakuto glowing with the heat of the _cero. _He bellowed up at them, an orange _cero _erupting from between his fangs. Neliel tossed herself in front of the group, swallowing the attack. Grimmjow and Soi Fon skipped away to the nearest rooftop.

"You two go," Soi Fon said, her eyes watching as Neliel vomited her own _cero _back toward the ground.

"What?"

"I'm best suited to counter Komamura."

"But," Grimmjow growled, "that's not part of the plan,"

Soi didn't look away from the battle. "Since when have you cared about sticking to plans?"

He didn't respond. She looked at him. He was looking away.

"We were supposed to go together."

"I know what the plan was, Grimmjow," she said. "But now things have—"

"I just got you back, Soi," he said, snapping his head back to look at her.

Her mouth opened, but she looked away.

"I know."

He sighed harshly. "Look, I understand. I'm being stupid. It's just that—" He stopped himself as another explosion sounded beside them. He was looking west again.

Soi took his face in her hands and brought it down to her, pressing her lips against his. He placed his hands on her hips, closing his eyes and ignoring the heat of the battle raging next to them. They pulled away, and she tried her best not to mimic his sullen expression.

"I'll be right there beside you soon," she said, letting go of his cheeks and stepping away from him. "I promise."

He lifted into the sky without a response and launched a rapid-fire series of _bala _down at Kommamura, blocking Neliel from being attacked and giving Soi Fon an opening to switch places with her. She grinned up at him. He rewarded her smile with a wicked smirk.

"I'm holding you to your promise," he said, Neliel appearing next to him. "Little Captainess."

She smiled as the two Arrancar buzzed away. She turned to Komamura, his canine face snarling up at her. She leapt forward, slipping her sword out of its sheath and whispering down to her opponent. She clashed the edge of her blade with his, her body's full momentum not enough to force his zanpakuto back. She flashed away as he slashed out. She reappeared behind him, her own sword cutting down at the back of his neck. He whirled around and blocked and struck her away. She landed softly on the street.

"Captain Soi Fon," he said. She didn't respond. "I find our match-up both saddening and fortunate. I hate that I must kill you, because I have always respected your intelligence and skill."

She remained silent, focusing all of her attention on the edge of his powerful blade.

"However," he continued when his compliment produced no reaction, "I see our meeting as fortuitous because, of all the surviving captains, you are the least likely to lecture me on my motives."

"What's to lecture?" she asked, her _wakizashi _warping and covering her hand as it molded into her _shikai. _"You've been brainwashed. You now stand between me and completing my mission. If you'd prefer to leave this fight alive, step aside."

"Brainwashed_, _you say?" Komamura replied. "It is noting of the sort—"

He twirled around, slashing outward in a wide arc with his sword. The edge caught Soi Fon's protected wrist, keeping it from cleaving her in two. The momentum of his strike slowed enough to allow her to vanish once more. She reappeared down the street and smirked as a black crest bloomed on his white chest.

"I see," he replied, reaching a massive hand up to his snout. "You have no desire for understanding, then? Only a desire for victory? I suppose I respected you erroneously, Captain Soi Fon."

He pulled the mask down. The long piece of ivory stretched over his muzzle, appearing in profile as the face of a sleeping dog. When viewed head-on, as Soi Fon was now seeing, it looked like that of a man in pain.

Komamura Sajin rushed at her, bursting forward with a speed Soi never expected him capable of. She leapt away, too surprised to block, and narrowly avoided his zanpakuto. The blade crashed into the side of a building and brought it falling to the street. Soi Fon lifted into the sky as he glared up at her from behind his white mask. A shadow began to rise up alongside her, taking the shape of his massive _bankai. _She turned and looked up at it, her mouth agape. She'd never seen it this close colossalsword swung down at her and she zipped to the side, swinging her own arm out and pointing it at the behemoth.

"_Bankai!"_ she yelled, flinging herself backward to avoid another wide arc from the giant samurai. She flashed around to its rear, her own _bankai _unleashed and aimed directly at the back of its head. She unleashed the missile, the force of the rocket's launch propelling her back through the air. The giant spun around, bringing a hand up to protect its face, the torpedo slamming into its palm before exploding.

Soi was sent tumbling down from the blast, slamming into a green dumpster on the side of a nearby building. She struggled to get up, the spent casing around her right arm too heavy and pinning her to the ground. It fizzled away and resealed itself into a sword. She shoved herself to her feet, gripping her left shoulder.

She looked up into the sky, seeing the massive samurai standing as the last of the explosion expanded up into the sky. Its left arm was a tangle of blood and splintered armor, dangling uselessly after taking her _bankai _at nearly point-blank range. Soi Fon darted away, ducking through an alleyway.

Komamura's _bankai _was still standing and able to fight. It had also gained the boost in speed and strength that its master had from the hybridization process. The only way she could defeat it was with her _bankai, _but it would need to be a direct hit. She needed to find a way to land that hit in the next shot. She couldn't afford to miss—after two years without any real training, two shots from her _Jakuhou Raikouben _would be the best she could hope for.

She stepped out of the alleyway to find Komamura Sajin waiting for her.

He swung at her with his zanpakuto, barely missing her skull. She leapt away, her shoulder clipping the wall in her fatigue. She slipped and scrambled to her feet, dodging another strike. She leapt into the air and positioned herself to dodge another attack. Komamura stayed on the ground. He kept his right side facing her. She could see a pool of blood behind him. She rushed forward and slashed at him with her _wakizashi, _forcing him to move and shift his weight. She vanished again, reappearing a block away.

He was missing his left hand. His _bankai's _wound had transferred to him. She looked up into the sky where the colossus awaited its orders. If she could take down the puppet, she could kill the master. She sighed and vanished, reappearing above the town in front of the samurai, her own _bankai _clinging to her side once more. Her breath was labored and sweat beads slid down her face.

The giant slashed at her and she vanished, reappearing in a torrent of images, each one a near-living replica of her. She circled it in a cloud of clones, each pointing the lethal weapon at it. It took a swing at one, but the apparition vanished and the massive blade slid through air. It watched the clones for a moment longer and then stood still.

"I see," Komamura's voice boomed out of the giant's hidden mouth. "So you're attempting to distract me until you can get a clear shot?"

The colossal _bankai _swung out at another clone, once more hitting its target without effect.

"How hard is it to maintain that level of speed, Captain Soi Fon?" he asked. "You're already slowing down, and the number of images you're producing is starting to dwindle."

The giant slashed again, hitting air. The clones weren't as numerous now; what had started as a swarm of images had fallen to a mere dozen. The number was visibly dropping.

"Perhaps I'll simply bide my time until you wear yourself out?"

The clones were down to three, each positioned in a triangle as she aimed at the _bankai. _It gripped the handle of its sword with its remaining hand. There were now only two clones, one on either side. The samurai turned and committed to one side, slashing downward, making contact with the tiny Shinigami and sending her tumbling to the ground in two pieces.

Each of which became a half of her jacket, the green fabric fluttering gently to the ruined street below.

The giant whirled around, but Soi Fon had already launched her missile. A massive explosion erupted from its chest, sending it toppling onto its back. She tumbled back through the air, landing on the asphalt and skidding into a brick wall. She looked up into the sky through the space between buildings and saw the colossus collapsing into a crumbling pile of _reiastu_ particles. She forced herself to her feet, cursing the fact that she'd hit the wall with the same shoulder. Her hip, too. She limped through the street toward where she'd last seen Komamura.

He was still alive. He was huddled in a corner, his body mostly hidden by a dumpster, his chest a ragged mess of blood and bone. He was muttering to himself, his black lips working rapidly under half of his shattered mask. She shuffled closer to him, cautiously, quietly.

"Please," he was stammering, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please don't let me have been wrong. Please don't let me have died in shame. Please don't let me have been wrong."

Soi didn't know who he was talking to. He didn't have long to live—she could see the organs trembling as he struggled to continue his mantra. She slowly closed the distance between them, daring to look him in the face, daring to comfort him in his final moments. She leaned her head into his field of vision and his murmuring stopped.

His eyes tightened and he roared a vile, blood-soaked, gurgling howl, reaching out a clawed hand for her throat. She stumbled back and he tumbled onto his belly, the rest of his body's blood spilling onto the street. He snarled and growled, his golden irises burning as they glowered at her. He clawed at her once more, his lips curling, revealing his fangs as he stared into her face. His whiskers twitched and the hair on the back of his neck stood erect in an instinctual warning. She reached out a hand from the distance, as if to pat his trembling head, and brought it back.

She turned and left him panting and whimpering in his own blood.

* * *

_**author's note**_

**_2011_**

**_expecting an update for 'heroes'_**

_ISHYGDDT_

_seriously, though. i'm very sorry about the wait. school and work and life all got in my way. fortunately, i've got a lot of material scribbled in notebooks from over the course of my semester, so hopefully i'll be able to finish this thing up sooner than later._

_big ups go out to **jazzpha **as always_

_**jta~!**_

_**the space between two worlds - nujabes**_

**_leviathan - john zorn_**


	22. The Golden Morning Breaks : Nightstalker

_**The Golden Morning Breaks**_

_**[Nightstalker]**_

Byakuya had stayed in Karakura; Hisagi and Lilynette had come with them into Soul Society, but had broken off to find the _Primera _Espada.

Yadomaru Lisa followed Unohana Retsu through _Seireitei_, sprinting toward the First Division.

This was the first time she had been back to Soul Society in nearly a century and a half. While the rest of the Vizards had gone along with Shinji's plan to overthrow the _Gotei _and coax Aizen into an alliance, Lisa and Rose had been elected to stay behind in the real world. She'd been fine with the decision to stay in hiding—finer with it than Rose was—but the pang of envy had still embedded itself deeply within her heart. And then Rose was caught. Everyone in the group got to go back home; she had to stay behind.

Now that she was here in _Seireitei, _that feeling of jealousy welled into a sorrowful nostalgia. The leadership of Soul Society had changed hands twice since she'd been banished—from Yamamoto to Unohana, and from Unohana to Aizen—and it showed. Vestiges of her old home lay almost hidden behind the more rustic renovations of Unohana Retsu; these were, in turn, mostly eclipsed by the stark additions of Aizen Sousuke. These changes made her hate her return all the more: she'd been thrown from her home and it had moved on without her.

Unohana Retsu ran ahead of her, silent as a ghost as they approached the First Division.

The streets of _Seireitei_ were almost entirely quiet, their silence bathed in shadows as the morning sun sat still below the rooftops. Their group had been ambushed in the real world; they'd left Byakuya behind, but hadn't seen anyone else since then. To think that Aizen had left himself this unguarded would be absurd, yet his army was nowhere to be seen. There weren't even any other Shinigami. They rounded the final corner and came to the entrance of the First Division.

The Vizards were waiting in front of the massive gate, their swords drawn.

Mashiro's face brightened at Lisa, a lonely light of levity in a cloud of tension. Kensei, Love, and Hiyori were all staring at the doors. Hacchi and Rose glanced at her for a moment before averting their eyes back to the gate. Shinji had his eyes trained on Unohana's face. His smile lowered. He parted his lips and closed them again. He looked away.

"A lot of people died because of you," Unohana said. The rest of the group turned to her. He did not. "But I understand, Shinji," she continued. "You did what you felt was right." He looked at her. "Maybe someday I'll be able to forgive you."

He looked down at his shoes for a second, before tilting his chin back up to face her again. "Then, for today," he said with his grin returning, "we're cool?"

Unohana replied with a little smile and the massive doors of the First Division groaned open.

Aizen Sousuke stood in the middle of the courtyard, Ichimaru Gin to his left and Kyouraku Shunsui to his right. Lisa looked at Shunsui, her hands tight on the handle of her _nodachi. _Aizen smiled warmly, looking at the group.

"Unohana Retsu," he said, "how pleasant to see you again."

"Captain Aizen," Kyouraku Shunsui said, stepping forward and interjecting before Unohana had a chance to respond. "Let me get her out of your hair."

"I appreciate the offer," Aizen replied, "Kyouraku."

The two old friends both vanished. Lisa stood still, looking at the spot where they'd disappeared. He was gone. Without so much as a look in her direction, he'd fled. He hadn't even considered her an opponent. She snarled and whispered away.

"Hirako Shinji," Aizen said once they'd departed. "I'm surprised at you."

Shinji didn't respond.

Aizen's smile was unwavering. "I assumed you would have had more patience than this."

Despite himself, Shinji smiled. "How long have you known?"

"The whole time." Shinji's smile fell. "Ever since you approached Harribel with your plan to flush me out of hiding."

"Don't feed me that bullshit, Sousuke," Shinji snapped. "If you knew I was trying to trick you, why the hell'd you let her take my offer?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Aizen replied. "Why would I overthrow Soul Society myself when I could simply sit back and let you do it for me?"

Mashiro gasped as Shinji leapt forward, his zanpakuto already torn from its scabbard. Hiyrori yelled his name, the second syllable lost in a clash of steel. Ichimaru Gin's blade had slipped forward and pinned Shinji's sword to the ground, _Shinsou's _own tip digging into the tiles.

"Ichimaru," Shinji growled as the long zanpakuto retracted. "I guess you've been waiting a while for this, haven't you?"

If Gin was actually happy behind his permanent grin, it was impossible to say. The two vanished.

He was gone. Mashiro stared at the spot where Shinji had been standing. He was gone. Her eyes slowly slid over to Aizen's smiling face, standing still across the courtyard.

He was gone, and he'd left them with _him._

Shinji had always been the barrier between Aizen and the rest of the Vizards. No matter what was happening with their plans, Shinji would always be there to deal with Aizen. He was their leader and now he was gone. With only one tiny, little conversation, Aizen had shattered Hirako Shinji's cool and now he'd left them alone. She trembled and tightened her grip on her zanpakuto, hoping it looked like anger.

"Well, my failed experiments," Aizen said, offering out his hands, "let's see what you're capable of."

"_Ama no Mihashira!" _Hacchi yelled, clapping his hands together.

The rest of the group tore on their masks as the spell took shape. A massive green pillar erupted from beneath Aizen's feet, carrying him upward atop it, his figure soon vanishing in the morning sky.

Hacchi curled his fingers together. "_Genshihou hitofu—"_

Aizen appeared next to him. With a surprised gasp, the large Vizard stumbled away, reaching his hands up to his face, his mask beginning to form. Aizen smiled and slashed a line up Hacchi's chest. He fell heavy at Mashiro's feet.

"_Tengumaru!" _Love bellowed, his zanpakuto releasing, the broad cudgel swinging like a giant club. Aizen blocked with his own zanpakuto, but the explosive hit sent him flying into the air, his body emerging like a dart from a cloud of smoke a flame. Rose was already up in the air, waiting.

"Play, _Kinshara,_" he said, his voice both lovely and dangerous from behind his beaked-mask. His whip arced forward, lassoing around Aizen's shoulders, pinning his arms to his sides. He grimaced as Rose snapped his wrist down, flinging Aizen to at the ground. He landed on his feet, but Rose was already rocketing down at him, _Kinshara _lashing out.

Aizen caught the golden whip in his free hand and pulled Rose down to him. He slashed horizontally as the Vizard reached him, _Kyouka Suigetsu_ severing his right arm and opening a gash across his chest. Rose fell forward onto the ground, his beak splintering as his eyes bulged in pain and disbelief. Aizen tossed the whip onto him.

"Rose!" Love roared, rushing at Aizen, his giant zanpakuto swinging. Aizen lifted his arm, the massive cudgel stopping on the edge of the much smaller weapon. Love growled and seethed, brining _Tengumaru _back up, lifting it over his head with both hands.

Aizen flashed forward, slipping his zanpakuto through Love's gut. The Vizard gasped, dropping his weapon and falling back, sliding off of Aizen's blade.

"Christ," Kensei hissed, but Mashiro could barely hear him. He sounded miles away. Aizen turned to face them, smiling. She sucked in a breath.

"Guys," Hiyori growled softly. "I've got an idea. Follow my lead."

She bolted forward.

"Hiyori!" Mashiro screamed.

"Shit!" Kensei spat, running after her.

"Chop," Hiyori yelled, "_Kubikiri Orochi!"_

Mashiro watched as the young Vizard rushed at Aizen, Kensei following behind her. Hiyori leapt up, her hands both gripping her zanpakuto, her midsection wide open.

It clicked for Mashiro then. Hiyori was sacrificing herself to force Aizen into providing an opening. Aizen turned and faced her, slashing a line across her belly and sending her to the floor. Mashiro rushed forward as he spun around to counter Kensei's strike. He blocked the Vizard's hit, but Kensei vanished with a buzz, avoiding the counterattack. Mashiro reached Aizen just as he turned to face her.

She rammed her zanpakuto through his chest. He gasped, his cool smile falling into a grimace as blood began to spill from his sternum. He reached a trembling hand up to her blade, gripping it tightly as it quivered inside his body.

And then he became Muguruma Kensei. He groaned, his gloved hand still gripping her blade tightly.

"_Mashiro_," he hissed, blood trickling from between his clenched teeth. "_Why?"_

Mashiro gasped and let go of her sword, Kensei falling to the ground with it still embedded in his torso. She brought her hands up to her face, covering her mouth right as _Kyouka Suigetsu _emerged from her stomach.

"I'm sorry, Mashiro-chan," Aizen said lightly into her ear, pulling his zanpakuto out of her. "But you were wide open."

She dropped to her knees, her hands cupping the blood that was spilling out of her belly. As she fell onto her face, she could hear Kensei groaning. She tried to reach out, to pull her zanpakuto from his chest, but her hands wouldn't move.

"Your wounds shouldn't be severe enough to kill you," Aizen said, slipping his hands into his pockets and walking toward the Captain-commander's room. The sun broke over the top of the courtyard, filling the plaza with warm, yellow light.

"Rather," he continued, not bothering to look over his shoulder at the fallen Vizards, "you should be able to breathe long enough to see your attempt at revenge fail."

* * *

_ Captain Kotetsu Isane balled her fists at her sides as the new recruits did all but ignore her._

_ Just as Ikkaku had decided to implement a healing squadron in the Eleventh Division—a group headed by Yumichika's newfound and remarkable zeal for healing kidou—Isane was trying to integrate a combat team inside the Fourth. She figured that if there were members in the medical division that were adept at combat, then they could serve as protection while her healers were out on the field._

_ So far, it wasn't going well._

_ Naturally, she'd gone to the Eleventh for her recruits; the division had, after all, taken some of her more talented students for themselves. Ikkaku had been more than happy to lend her some of his promising pupils— more promising, it would seem, for careers in the Eleventh Division than in the Fourth. These newly graduated Shinigami had only been in her ranks for a week, yet had already decided that they were better than their squad mates. Isane wondered if the desire to conquer members of the Fourth Division came naturally to those in the Eleventh._

_ "Please!" she called out to the crowd. "Form two columns! Now!" The last command was issued almost as an afterthought._

_ Eyes rolled. A few snickers. An outright laugh. Isane watched the rows fail to form, taking a few measured breaths before preparing to repeat herself. Miraculously, just as she'd puffed out her chest to yell again, the mob obeyed her commands. They formed two lines and watched her expectantly. She sighed in relief. _

_ "Thank you very much," she said, giving a bow. She quickly realized this was a mistake. She snapped her back straight up but the damage was done—another round of snickers bubbled up from the group. They stayed in their rows, but visibly slackened. One went so far as to sit down on the sandy floor of the courtyard, his elbows resting on his knees._

_ "No offense, Captain-chan," said Yagami Matsuda, the self-appointed and de facto leader of the new recruits. He picked up his wooden practice sword. "But we already know how to fight."_

_ "Yes, but—" Isane stammered, but the group began to dissipate. Matsuda chuckled at her and spun around, taking a lazy practice swing with the wooden katana._

_ The fake zanpakuto stopped suddenly, its blunt edge caught in Kuchiki Byakuya's palm. Matsuda glared at the noble captain, his pride too strong to allow him to back down immediately. The rest of the Eleventh Division hooligans turned their attention to the intruding authority. They watched intently as their wannabe leader struggled, their own thoughts of supremacy surfacing at his imminent downfall. Matsuda tried to tug his wooden sword away; Byakuya's wrist barely moved._

_ "Your abilities in combat are not in question," Byakuya said sternly. "Your ability to listen to your superiors, however, is highly suspect."_

_ The pack snickered. Byakuya released the wood and turned to them._

_ "Do you find humor in this situation?" he asked, their smirks falling. "Do not take your captain's patience as ignorance, nor her kindness as weakness. She has surpassed a level that many of you will never come close to achieving. It would be wise to remember this. Understood?"_

_ They didn't respond, but they didn't need to. Byakuya turned to Isane, speaking lowly so that only she could hear him._

_ "Captain Kotetsu, you are the leader of this division now. Keep this in mind and act accordingly."_

_ "Yes, Captain Kuchiki," she gasped, quickly offering him a small bow. "Thank you for your assistance, Captain Kuchiki."_

_ "Also remember," he added, turning away, "that I am now your peer, and not your superior."_

_ She watched him glide out of the courtyard, her cheeks hot in her flustered embarrassment. She opened her mouth, a little squeak emerging from her throat as she searched for her voice._

_ "Kuchiki Byakuya," she called, her voice calm and steady. "Perhaps you could meet with me later to discuss my progression as a Captain."_

_ Byakuya stopped but did not turn around. She swallowed hard, her fist finding themselves balled at her sides once more._

_ "Meet me at my manor this evening," he said calmly, still facing away. "I'll have our dinners prepared at sundown."_

_ He exited the division, Isane's cheeks burning once more, for an entirely new reason, as her squadron of recruits whistled and cat-called behind her._

Byakuya leapt away, one of the nearby storefronts crumbling into a pile of stone and ice. A whirlwind of pink fluttered around him, reflecting the faint yellow of the steadily rising sun. His left arm dangled uselessly at his side, the shoulder and bicep tattered and drenched in blood. It dripped from his loose fingers and dappled the dusty pavement.

"Kuchiki Byakuya," Kotetsu Isane said, coming from around the rubble. "You'd always given me the impression that you were more skilled than this."

Her mask was now propped atop her shaggy silver hair, her eyes black and narrowed in a sneer. Her _bankai _swirled around her ankles in a flurried hoop, the white flakes of _Karakkaze Itegumo _a perversion of Byakuya's _Senbonzakura. _He left his gaze steeled on her face, his mouth an expressionless line, his eyes beholding her as though she were merely an inspirationless painting on the wall. She sneered again.

"Really, Byakuya?" she asked, the hoop of snow flitting at her call. "I knew you were a bit stuffy, but," she grinned darkly, "I thought we had a closer relationship than this."

He closed his eyes. "I advise that you listen closely," he said, "because I do not plan on speaking to you beyond this."

Her grin deepened into a smirk. She rolled her eyes.

"I admired Captain Kotetsu greatly," he continued. "She was a woman who respected her superiors, her peers, and her subordinates equally; she appreciated effort over success; she recognized the good in people and strived to nurture it. You, while wearing a shell of her, embody none of these traits."

He lifted his blade, the tip pointing to the asphalt. The hybrid in front of him snarled.

"You," he said, dropping his zanpakuto, "are no longer Isane."

A wave of pink petals swelled around him, rushing forward and engulfing her. The torrent churned on, peeling away the faces of the buildings that lined the street. Byakuya lifted his right hand sharply, like a conductor, and the swarm of blades quickly lifted into the air.

An egg of ice sat erect where Isane had been standing, the once swirling snow having caught Byakuya's blades and frozen them into solid a shell. The sunlight glinted off the cocoon of steel and frost. The petals rippled along the surface, fluttering slightly before darting outward, zipping straight at him.

He leapt into the air, the frozen bullets barely missing him. He landed on a rooftop, grimacing as his _bankai _followed him up and protectively swirled around his body. She had used the same technique on him earlier—she'd surprised him and almost torn his left arm to shreds by spewing his own attack back at him. He'd expected the attack this time; he'd needed to see how absolute her defense was. He now knew it was almost total. Even if he used _Goukei, _he doubted he would be able to produce different results. Her _bankai's _shield was too effective. He needed to force her into a more offensive position.

He whispered away, appearing behind her, a bolt of lightning blasting out of his fingertip. The _byakurai _hit the wall of snow, freezing immediately. Ice crawled up toward his hand. He whispered away again as the shell flung the offending bolt at where he stood.

"_Senkei," _he said, reappearing in front of her, a pink _katana _in his hand, matching the dozens that caged them both. He slashed at her, the blade stopping against the shell. The snowflakes wrapped around it, but he released it and reached out his arm, another blade snapping from the walls and into his waiting palm. He struck again, and, once more, Isane's _bankai _caught his weapon. The twin blades arched back, ready to spear their former owner, each gripped by a frosty tendril.

There was an opening in the barrier created between the two arms.

Byakuya summoned one more blade, gripping it and darting forward, stepping inside the range of the two frozen swords, jabbing the pink _katana _through the space between snowflakes and into Isane's shoulder. She shrieked and leapt away, her retreat halted by the wall of swords, her blood leaving a frozen crimson trail along the ground. She glared at him from behind her protection, her chest heaving. She growled and the swirling casing of snowflakes settled. The snow piled and collected in her fist, forming itself into a single, icy sword.

She understood her defenses had been shattered.

Byakuya was finally able to get a look at her mask, no longer obscured by the swirling shell. The top was high, her eye holes looking low on the face. A grimace of sharp, skeletal teeth stretched across the forehead, the corners jabbing down at her eyes. The frown gave the appearance of an upside-down and hungry smile.

He turned his sights onto her new weapon. As her _bankai's _initial form was much like _Senbonzakura, _so was its second—all the power that the flittering snowflakes had held individually were now condensed into one blade. He knew that taking a direct hit from that sword would ultimately prove fatal. He held his own _katana_ tightly.

A wall of ice blasted forth from behind him, catching him off guard. He leapt to the side at the last moment, but his dangling left arm was caught in the blast. He hissed, looking down at the captured limb, frozen up to the elbow. He glanced back up at Isane, the hybrid taking advantage of his sudden entrapment, flinging herself at him, her icy _katana _gripped in both hands.

With a flash of light and a whisper, Byakuya vanished. Isane's blade crashed into the pavement where he'd been standing, a fissure tearing into the street and a field of ice blooming out from the strike. He reappeared down the street, the cage of _Senbonzakura's Senkei _vanishing as it resealed into a normal _katana. _His left arm was severed at the bicep, the rest of the limb still embedded in the wave of ice. Blood dripped from his own blade; it spilled from his missing arm and covered his left side. Isane turned to him, her eyes focused over his shoulder. He turned and looked at Kuchiki Rukia.

"Byakuya-sama," she said, the title she tacked onto her brother's name dripping with derision. "It has been far too long."

He glanced at her, her violet irises glittering against the black sclera of her eyes, large and vibrant as they peered at him from behind an otherwise featureless mask. Isane moved behind him, catching his attention. Her swirling shell had reappeared, the necessity of an all-out offensive vanishing with the arrival of her companion. She narrowed her eyes behind her mask. Rukia nodded.

They both charged.

"_Shuukei:" _Byakuya whispered, his eyes closing as the two women rushed at him from either side, "_Hakuteiken."_

As his _bankai's _ultimate form took shape, and the white wings sprouted from his shoulders, and his single hand gripped the blazing _katana, _he thought about which of these two women he would kill. He knew that he couldn't attack them both—their dual offense was too well-timed. He needed to make a decision. He would get a single opportunity to make a single strike, turning his open back to the girl he'd let live. To the one he would let claim his life.

Kotetsu Isane. Her _bankai _was too powerful, too tricky. He may be the only person in the _Gotei_ that could successfully counter it. It would have to be her, the woman he'd taken under his wing; the woman he'd taught to be a tremendous captain; the woman he'd allowed to, finally, move into the hole that Hisana had left so long ago. She was too dangerous for him to leave alive. This is what he told himself.

Not for a moment did he consider pointing his blade at Rukia.

He opened his grey eyes and turned to Isane, his white sword aimed at her chest, his back exposed. She lurched forward, her own _zanpakuto _held in both hands as she jutted it at him. His blade pierced through her shield, the snowflakes obliterated by the sheer power of his _Hakuteiken. _Her sword slipped beneath his jab, but the tip of his blazing _katana _stuck her first_, _its point plunging through the bottom of her throat. Her mask shattered as her momentum carried her forward, her face an oval of surprise as the point of her _zanpakuto _entered his gut. Her swirling _bankai _evaporated; his sword resealed itself into steel. She slid back and off of his blade, her own pulling from his belly. He slumped forward onto his knees as she crumpled to the ground. He shuddered, looking at her body.

_Why was he alive?_

He turned his face over his shoulder to look at Kuchiki Rukia, the woman he'd chosen to kill him. Why hadn't she attacked him? Why had her blade stopped before taking his life?

He couldn't see her. She was eclipsed by a broad blade, a pair of tattooed arms, a fountain of bright red hair. Her _zanpakuto _was halted against his.

"You look awful," Abarai Renji laughed, a white mask forming over his face, "Kuchiki Byakuya!"

* * *

_**author's note**_

_see? the rest of this should be coming out relatively quickly._

_big thanks to **jazzpha **as always._

_also, renji?_

_sooner than later, i promise._

_**jta**_

_**the golden morning breaks - colleen**_

**_nightstalker - kenji kawai_**


	23. The Snow Angel : Recluse

_**The Snow Angel**_

_**[Recluse]**_

_ "Mashiro!" Kensei yelled. Her normally wide and bright eyes were narrowed harshly. They tightened more, the brown irises hard as they glared down the length of her zanpakuto. She did not lower it, disobeying Kensei's order and leaving its tip inches away from Renji's throat._

_ Kensei pushed himself up from the ground, cupping his bleeding jaw in his palm. He stood and stared at Renji, the Shinigami's bare and tattooed chest heaving. His teeth bared, Renji growled at the two Vizards in front of him._

_ "I don't want to chain you up," Kensei said, spitting a wad of crimson against the wall and wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "But if you touch me again, I'll let Mashiro pin you to the wall."_

_ Renji's body trembled in anger, the bandages that wove around his gut slowly spreading red as his wounds—only hours old—reopened. His eyes flicked over Kensei's shoulder, at _Zabimaru _locked against the wall. He brought his sights back to Mashiro and Kensei._

_ "Where," his voice croaked out, "is she?"_

_Mashiro blinked at the question, swallowing and shifting her stance before re-steeling herself and poking her blade closer to Renji's neck._

"_She's alive," Kensei replied, obviously exerting effort to maintain eye contact with Renji._

"_Where is she?" he repeated._

_Kensei broke his contact, his brown irises flicking down and to the left. Mashiro was looking at him for the answer._

"Where the fuck is Rukia?"

_Kensei refused to respond, choosing instead to focus on the sunny desert through the gash in the wall. _Las Noches _was not a safe place for Renji to lose his cool, not with the _Espada _returning. He'd placed up a small barrier around the room, hopefully cancelling out the already thick _reiastu _Renji was leaking. He doubted it would conceal anything more._

"_I took her captive," Mashiro said. Renji whirled his eyes, bulging and bloodshot, and glared at her._

"_You did _what_?"_

"_What else was I supposed to do?" she barked back._

"_Maybe let her fucking escape?" he shouted. Kensei winced, looking out at the desert again as though Renji could be heard._

"_And how long do you think she would have survived, Renji?" she asked, her voice allowing a timbre of sorrow beneath sternness. "With her wounds, alone in _Hueco Mundo, _with the _Espada _returning?"_

"_You—" he started, "you could have let her use a _garganta."

"_And then what?" Kensei broke in. "Answer questions about why we gave a Shinigami lieutenant a free pass out of our clutches?"_

_Renji coughed then, flecks of blood splattering against Mashiro's face. The Vizard didn't retract. A dribble of blood slunk down Renji's chin. He fell back as the fit wracked his body, landing on the cot that, until a few minutes ago, he'd been unconscious on._

"_So," Renji groaned, his eyes on the ceiling, his voice absent, "she's as good as dead?"_

"_Shinji promised he'd try to keep all of the captives alive," Mashiro replied._

"_That man," Renji said, "promised a lot of things."_

_Neither Vizard answered, their lack of response sending the Shinigami rolling over on the bed. He faced the wall, turning his battered back to them. _

"_Why did you save me?"_

"_Didn't you hear me earlier?" Kensei snapped, his split lip bleeding again. He winced and spoke softer. "Aizen is still alive. We're gonna need every sword we can get to point at his throat."_

_Renji didn't say anything as he lay facing the wall._

* * *

"You look awful," Abarai Renji laughed, a white mask forming over his face, "Kuchiki Byakuya!"

Despite the cold blade that was bearing down on him, Renji left his sights over his shoulder. The slack, open-mouthed surprise that adorned the Kuchiki noble's face, gaping up at him from a blood-soaked street, was almost too good to believe. For nearly a century, Renji had desired to stand above Kuchiki Byakuya, to defeat him. But to save him? Renji had never imagined a victory so sweet.

He felt his mask finish forming, the snarling white face of a baboon replacing his own. Reluctantly, he turned to face his opponent.

Rukia's mask—blank, featureless, emotionless—filled his vision. Her violet irises were now gold, surrounded by black, as they regarded him coolly from within their small eyeholes. He couldn't read her emotions from behind the façade of bone. He hoped she couldn't read his, either.

He buzzed away and she spun around, sending a wave of ice barreling down the street after him. With a flash, he reappeared, but she was right on him. Another swing of her sword and another frozen wall crashed at him. He leapt to his right, his shoulder slamming into the glacier. He stumbled and buzzed away just as Rukia's white blade clashed down on the street where he had been standing.

He reappeared a few blocks away, standing among the snowy ruins of a building that had been destroyed by Byakuya and Isane's fight. The morning sun glinted off the stone and steel and ice, reflecting yellow and blue and white. The frost was beginning to melt from the ruins of Karakura.

"Renji," Rukia called from behind him.

He turned and looked at her. She was standing above him, balanced atop a telephone pole. She rested her sword on her shoulder. She propped her mask up on her forehead. Renji did the same.

"Since when did you get a mask?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"You know me," he replied flatly, "always gotta follow those Kuchiki."

"Yes, even out of the grave."

"That's not very nice," Renji said, reaching for his mask, "Rukia."

"Second dance:" she replied, pulling down her own, "_Hakuren!_"

* * *

_ "Are you sure this is it this time?" Renji grumbled as he followed Mashiro through yet another alley in Jakarta._

_ The humidity was really starting to get to him. He'd done a little bit of research on Indonesia, including the weather patterns, so he'd known it was coming. But stepping out of the _garganta, _he'd felt like he'd been smacked with a pillow. The heaviness of the air had taken his breath away and he'd fought really hard to get it back. He eyed the people that scurried around the busy streets and wondered how they'd survived for so long._

_ "Yes, Tomato-head," Mashiro snapped back. "Kensei said that Shinji had found him here last month."_

_ "Yeah, and before that," Renji replied, "he was in Johannesburg. And before that, he was in Kamchatka."_

_ "But he's here this time."_

_ "I'll bet he is."_

_ Mashiro stopped, stamping her boots on the damp sidewalk. Her gloved fists balled up and flailed in time with her stomping heels. Her eyes squeezed shut. Her lips quivered and puckered. Renji braced himself for a tantrum._

_ "Why do you have to be so negative, Renji!" she bawled, drawing looks from the locals. He eyed their dark faces nervously—she was wearing a _gigai; _he wasn't. If he didn't calm her down soon, these people would have front-row seats to a green-haired girl crying and kicking at thin air. Which was certainly an event that they would talk about—which was certainly something he did not want to happen._

_ "Look, Mashiro," he started, using the friendliest voice he could muster, steering as far from a Kensei-esque reaction as possible. "I'm sorry."_

_ "No you aren't." She was still pouting, but she wasn't crying anymore. _

_ "Yes, I am," he repeated. "It's just that we keep missing him. We've only got a few chances to come out here, so it's frustrating that we keep wasting them. Okay?"_

_ "Do you mean it?"_

_ "Of course."_

_ "Okay."_

_ "It's also frustrating," he said, turning around with a wry smile, "knowing that Kensei and I could have found him a long time ago, but he's just too bus—"_

_ Her shocked gasp cut him off. He turned and looked at her, expecting another torrent of tears and hoping he could explain that he was only joking before she started up again. She was not about to cry. Her mouth was open, her eyebrows knotted tightly over her brown eyes, her expression a perfect and unambiguous mixture of hurt, anger, and disbelief. Without a word, she spun and marched away._

_ Renji sighed. "Mashiro, I was just kidding."_

_ She didn't respond and was soon whirling around the corner, disappearing from his sight._

_ "Mashiro!" he called. There was no response. He rolled his eyes and kept walking the way they'd been going. She would come back for him. Most likely. And even if she didn't, Kensei would find him again. Eventually. _

_ He came to the edge of the harbor and, looking out through the humid air at the teal water, realized that Kensei may not be able to come for him. He may be too busy aiding Shinji and faking an alliance with Aizen. Mashiro might not get another chance, either. Their entire plan could fall apart because he said the wrong thing to the wrong person at the wrong time. He turned around to try and find Mashiro before she did something stupid._

_ "Abarai Renji?" a surprised voice grumbled behind him. He spun around, his hand sliding to his sword, searching for the voice that could somehow see him. He was alone in the alley._

_ "How are you alive?"_

_ His eyes flicked around the street, finally glancing down and locating the owner of the gravelly voice. A black cat was looking up at him, its tail swishing languidly as it stared at him. Renji blinked hard, twice, and licked his lips quickly, trying to find his voice. He couldn't believe he was about to do this._

_ "Do I—" he stammered, "do I know you?"_

_ "Yes," the cat answered. "We know each other very well. Follow me."_

_ It turned and darted down an adjacent alley, sending Renji scrambling after it. He could see it bouncing along ahead of him, its tail the only directional indicator after taking tight turns. He almost lost it, the small animal vanishing and he choosing a left via mental coin-toss. He almost stepped on it, the cat having stopped in front of a plain and dingy metal door. It hopped through a plastic flap, leaving Renji alone in the filthy alleyway. _

_ He wondered, very seriously, if he'd gone crazy._

_ A heavy lock was undone from the other side of the door. A mess of shaggy, hay-colored hair appeared from the darkness of the room within. Urahara Kisuke peered out at him, his eyes dulled and hovering above purple patches set in a face that hadn't seen a razor in quite some time. Urahara blinked, even in the dim sunlight of the alleyway. His grey eyes regarded Renji absently, the door still mostly closed._

_ "Abarai Renji," he said, unimpressed. "I was told you were dead."_

_ "You were told what we wanted you to hear."_

_ "We?" he asked. His face, still sullen, brightened a little. "Who is we?"_

_ "I would rather keep that information to myself," Renji replied. "I'm sure you can appreciate that."_

_ The line of Urahara's mouth slightly curved up at a corner. "Then why have you let your own cat out of the bag?"_

_ "I have a question for you," Renji replied, ignoring Urahara. The scientist didn't respond. "He's never talked about it, but," Renji continued, "I suspect that Ichigo got his Hollow abilities because of something you did to him."_

_ Urahara stopped leaning on the wall and stood straight. He slid the door open a little more. "Yes, Ichigo's Hollowfication was one of my experiments." _

_ "Is it an experiment that you could repeat?"_

_ The grin grew. "Of course."_

_ "With the same results?"_

_ Urahara's mouth bloomed into the sweet and inviting smile he'd always been known for. His eyes glittered as they peered at Renji, beholding in the Shinigami something he could finally tinker with. _

_Renji knew he'd get what he'd come for._

* * *

Renji's zanpakuto clashed into Rukia's, her white blade grinding against one of the pikes of his _shikai. _She growled and lashed out at him, pushing him back with another wave of ice. He flew up into the air, avoiding the freezing wall that was intended to trap him. He swung his sword down, _Zabimaru _whipping forward, extending toward her. She blocked, his zanpakuto collapsing like an accordion against her blade. She slashed down, Renji's sword following her down to the ground. The top spike stuck in the street and Rukia charged him.

"First dance:" she said, drawing a circle with her sword, "_Tsukishiro!"_

A white circle appeared around Renji. He leapt away, the blade of _Zabimaru _yanking free at the last moment. He buzzed toward her, whipping the weapon forward. She spun, but the top spike sliced into her shoulder. She hissed and vanished. Renji ignored _Zabimaru's_ displeasure.

Rukia reappeared. "What's the matter, Renji?"

He looked at her blankly for a while. "What could possibly be wrong?"

"Don't play cutesy with me, dumbass," she said, smirking. "You're not fighting me full-on."

"What makes you think that?" he asked. "You've always been pretty damned strong, Rukia. If you woulda learned _bankai _before me, you'd probably be the capt—"

"_Bankai?"_ She snorted. "I don't need a _bankai _to defeat you, Renji."

He didn't reply.

"Fine," she said. "But you're going to need yours to beat me."

She slowly brought her hand to her forehead, her blank mask forming over her face once more. Renji watched her carefully, slowly, and gripped his zanpakuto tightly. His teeth gritted together as he ignored _Zabimaru's_ protests again. He lifted the zanpakuto up, pointing the heavy blade at her.

"_Bankai."_

* * *

_Renji woke and stretched as the _Bigle_ idled into the harbor. Grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head, he looked up at the darkening clouds. The setting sun was hiding behind them. A deep growl of thunder crept across the ocean, carrying a cool gust of wind with it. He looked out at the town and saw that the orange-tiled roofs were still dry. Ilha do Corvo, his new home in the Azores, was about to get drenched. _

"_It's gonna rain," Renji said as he descended the ladder from the flybridge to the cockpit._

_ "You are not getting out of cleaning," Oscar replied, steering into the marina._

_ "Fresh water's fresh water," Renji called to his boss as he walked onto the bow._

_"Rain doesn't have soap in it," Oscar grumbled back._

_ Renji laughed and grabbed the docklines that hung from the old wooden pilings. He tied the salty ropes in figure eights around the steel cleats on either side of the anchor pulpit and darted back into the cockpit to do the same at the stern. Holding his breath against the pungent smell of diesel, he tied the lines and Oscar switched the engines off. _

_ Renji stood as their customers staggered out of the cabin. He smiled politely at their frowns. They blinked hard. Oscar bounded down the ladder and onto the dock, his round little body looking spry in comparison to the wobbly German couple. He waved them up onto the dock and toward the marina house. The language barrier between captain and customer would soon vanish in an exchange of euros._

_ "What about our tuna?" the husband demanded from Renji in German, stepping up onto dry land in front of his groggy wife._

_ "I'll clean them for you," Renji replied, the _gigai _Urahara had given him flipping from Portuguese to German effortlessly. He looked past the fat sunburned face and at a group of young boys down the dock. He waved one of them over and turned back. "I'll send the filets to the hotel. They'll cook some for dinner and freeze the rest."_

_ "How should we have it cooked?" he asked, placing a five note in Renji's palm. _

_ Renji looked at the pathetic tip and forced his smile to stay. "They'll suggest at the _pousada_." _

_ The couple wobbled away and Renji turned his attention to the boy that had sprinted over to the boat. Renji sighed and handed him the five. _

_ "I better see my face in it, Miro," he threatened, handing over a bucket of soapy water. Grabbing a beer from the cooler, he twisted the cap off and took a swig. "Come take the fish up to the kitchen when you're done." _

_Renji grabbed his knife and whetstone and placed them in his pocket. He pulled the two tuna out of the icebox and slipped them into a big white bucket, their tails sticking out. As Miro began to wash the boat, he hopped up onto the dock and headed toward the cleaning house. A pair of beagle-mutts ran over to him, their tails spinning like windmills. They were the dock-dogs and they had taken an extreme liking to him. Most likely because he was the only mate to give them scraps of fish. _

"_But, _mamãe_," he heard a whine from across the marina._

"_No '_mamãe_'," came the terse response and Renji grinned at the mother and son. "It is going to rain soon. You are coming home."_

_Renji walked over to Maitê, Oscar's daughter, and her son João, who was still tugging in an attempt to escape his mother's clutches. She rested one brown palm on the small of her back, massaging the muscles strained by her heavy belly. Renji's eyes flicked down to the soon-to-be inside and back up to her, his dark eyes soft. Nobody knew where the father had vanished to. The approaching storm grumbled._

"_How was the day, _Tomate?" _she asked, her eyes regarding his catch woefully._

"_I spent my tip on Miro," he replied, knocking his head over his shoulder at the boy washing the boat for him._

"Nossa Senhora," she gasped, her fingers flying up to her mouth. "_That bad?"_

"_And the customers were sick in the cabin."_

"_Are you telling me you could not charm them?"_

_Renji felt his cheeks warm. He looked down and chuckled, the tuna bucket feeling suddenly heavy in his hand. He could feel her black irises focused on him and he struggled not to meet them. He already knew that his time here was only temporary. He didn't need to fall for some poor abandoned girl. He couldn't._

_He looked up and realized he wouldn't._

_Over Maitê's shoulder, at the top of the hill at the end of the marina, standing in the last ray of sunlight, was a blonde man wearing a green and white hat._

* * *

"I thought you'd be better than this, Renji."

Renji breathed heavily as he looked down at Rukia. A trickle of blood ran down his face from a gash at his temple. The sun was still climbing, its crawl slowing as it marched toward the top of the sky. Their shadows were shortening slowly, the retreating shades the only movement between the two warriors.

"You're just as cut up as me," Renji said, glancing down at the rivulets of blood that coursed from beneath her sleeve, running along the white handle of her zanpakuto before dripping on the asphalt.

She snickered and vanished, buzzing back into sight on his left. He whipped his arm up, the ivory serpent lifting and blocking, lashing out and sending Rukia flying up into the sunlight. Renji punched his hand forward, the snake-whip lunging after her. Its skeletal maw gaped open as it approached. She clicked her tongue and pulled her mask back on, swinging her sword upward.

A crescent of ice slung out at _Hihiou Zabimaru, _the frozen arc clashing into its chin. The snake hissed as its jaw clamped shut and its neck craned backwards. Rukia buzzed away and appeared behind Renji. He spun and whipped at her, the serpent missing by inches as she vanished again, the pikes of its spine crushing the street below. She reappeared back down on the ground. He mask melted away.

"That's what I was talking about," she said. "What the hell was that, Renji?"

He didn't respond. His eyebrows tightened.

She continued. "I was wide open. You could have hit me with a _Hikotsu Taihou, _but you didn't."

"I knew you could be expecting that," he said.

"Then why didn't you use it?"

"You would have blocked it."

"But not without taking some damage," she replied.

Renji growled and looked away.

Rukia snickered once more. "That's what I meant when I said you're better than this."

She buzzed at him, her sword lashing an arc into his chest. He stumbled back, his mask forming, his _bankai _trailing in his retreat, her sword inside its reach as she tried to cut him again.

"You're always too worried about me," she yelled as she attacked. "You'll let yourself get killed just to let me live!"

She slashed into him once more. He stumbled backwards and fell onto the ground.

"Protecting me," she said, lifting her sword over him, "is going to get you killed again."

She cut down. His fist shot up, gripping hers, stopping the blade. She hissed and tugged away, her eyes bulging inside her mask. He held her tightly. He stood, bringing himself closer to her. They were only inches away. The mouth of his mask opened and a swirling ball of red blasted out of it. Hitting her dead-on, her mask and sword shattering, Rukia tumbled backwards through the air.

* * *

_Light broke from under the clouds, knifing a beam of sunset from between the horizon and the base of the thunderheads. Renji looked at the red and orange light. It wouldn't last long—the sun was already beneath the mountains, its rays swiftly being blotted out by a wall of charcoal-colored rain. Only a moment later did the light become eclipsed by the storm. The impending darkness was accompanied by a cold breeze slipping through the valley and the smell of the storm._

_Renji turned and looked back at the hotel, at the _Gotei's _temporary headquarters here in Ulaanbaatar. He could see the small group of Shinigami through the big window. He saw the big buffet that was filled with Japanese food; he could imagine the warm, deep, moist smell of the rice. He watched as Grimmjow entered the room; he watched him march across the room and take Soi Fon into his arms, kissing her deeply._

_The clouds above him finally opened, releasing big, hard, cold drops._

"_Run into some trouble on your way?" Urahara asked from behind him. Renji didn't turn._

"_I got too close to Grimmjow yesterday," Renji replied, lifting up a bandaged arm._

"_He didn't see you, did he?"_

"_Don't you think he would have said something if he had?"_

_They sat silent in the rain, watching as Unohana Retsu stalled in the middle of the two pitiful rows. Renji's eyes fixed on the gap where Rukia and he would have been standing. His jaw clenched and his hands tightened into fists._

"_Thank you, Renji," Urahara said, bowing his head, cold droplets beading along his bangs. "I know how hard it must be to continue hiding out here."_

"_I've been doing it for two years," he replied, swallowing, his eyes staying on the window. "Why would I stop now?"_

_He turned around, surprised that Urahara's head was still bowed, his grey eyes still focused on the wet dirt below._

"_What?" Renji asked. "What are you sorry for now?"_

"_I was able to finish my preparations. Mostly."_

"_Mostly?"_

"_I know how to kill Aizen and destroy the _hougyoku_."_

"_So what's the problem?"_

_Urahara stood. "I have no way to ensure that the destruction of the _hougyoku_ will not kill those who have been affected by it."_

_Renji blinked. "Are you fucking with me?"_

"_Unfortunately, I am no—"_

_Renji's fist cracked against Urahara's jaw, sending the Shinigami stumbling back, his sandals slipping over the mud. He stayed on his feet. He stood erect and wiped his rapidly bleeding lip._

"_I'm sorry, Renji," he said._

"_Don't be fucking sorry to me," Renji said. "I'm not gonna die because of you. Apologize to them." _

_He turned away but did not move. His feet were stuck in the thickening mud. His eyes focused once more on the big window. Unohana was standing at the head of the rows now, her mouth working slowly, tightly. _

"_I was apologizing to you," Urahara Kisuke said, walking past him and toward the hotel, "because I can't apologize to her."_

_Renji breathed in sharply but said nothing. Urahara continued walking, leaving Renji alone in the rain. A single warm droplet coursed down his cheek, dripping off his cheek and landing in a cold puddle._

* * *

Renji walked through the remains of the building, his mask gone, the massive serpent looming behind him. His black eyes scanned the rubble—illuminated by the small patches of light that shone through cracks in the walls—looking for Rukia's body. If he'd killed her with his _cero, _he needed to be sure. He was not going to turn his back on her.

A groan and a shuffling of rocks came from his right. He turned and watched as Rukia pushed herself up from beneath a pile of concrete. Renji gripped the bone handle tightly. Her clothes were tattered, her mask was gone. _Sode no Shirayuki _was broken near the hilt. She stood, hunched over slightly, her narrowed eyes glaring at Renji from behind her disheveled bangs.

"Surrender," Renji said, the jaws of the serpent opening slightly, "Rukia."

She looked down, her fist gripping her shattered sword, her charred left arm dangling at her side. He watched her, a cloud passing over the sunlight that streamed through a hole in the ceiling, the patch of light between them vanishing. She shook and growled, her violent, violet eyes returning to Renji's frown.

"Third dance:" she hissed, her mask forming once more, "_Shirafune!"_

She lunged forward at him, a blade of white ice forming from the broken edge of her zanpakuto. She screamed as she charged, her hand tight on the white handle. She leapt over a pile of rubble, the blade raised, catching a glimmer of sunlight that fell through the roof as the cloud above flew away.

Renji lifted his hand. The snake shot forward, its jaws snapping shut on Rukia's arm. She screeched, her zanpakuto falling from her hand. _Hihio Zabimaru _threw its snout into the ground, slamming Rukia into the floor. The right side of her mask shattered. She reached out her bloody hand, a trail of ice extending from her sword to her fingertips. The serpent slammed its body down, severing the frozen link, and began to slowly coil around her, creating a dome of bone. Renji stood over her, his frown deepening.

"Don't you look at me like that!" Kuchiki Rukia screamed, the one golden iris he could see glaring at him. "Don't you fucking feel _sorry_ for me! This is _your_ fault! It's _your_ fault this happened to me! You left me! _You left me, Ren—"_

Abarai Renji kept silent as the _bankai _prison closed, cutting off her screams. He could still hear her cries, muffled inside. He sat down, leaned his back against the bones, hung his head between his knees, and waited, listening.

* * *

**_author's note_**

****_yeah so. _

___glad to get this chapter out. renji is the man._

_anyhoo, glad to be getting another update in the middle of the semester. hopefully looking at another within a month. like kubo, i've also remembered about nel and harribel, so there's that._

**_reviews_**_ are always awesome._

_jta!~_

_**the snow angel - mike patton**_

**_recluse - cursive _**


	24. The Owl in Daylight : Scow

_**The Owl in Daylight**_

_**[Scow]**_

_Neliel walked through the narrow door and down the stairs. The lights flickered on at her presence. She'd just entered one of the dozen small buildings that served as outposts on the edge of _Las Noches' _territory. It likely hadn't been occupied in nearly two decades—she was glad the _reiastu _sensors still worked. As an inhabitant of Hueco Mundo, she was used to the darkness. But it didn't mean she liked it._

"_This way," Harribel said, appearing in the doorway behind her. Neliel turned and looked at the other Arrancar for the first time in almost four years. The current _Terceira _walked past her predecessor, heading down another flight of stairs. _

_Neliel followed silently, the lights activating as the two women travelled deeper into the bowels of the building. They eventually came to the final room located at the end of a short hallway. They stepped in, Harribel first. In the middle of the room was a long table with a sheet draped over it. There was something under the sheet._

"_Is that the body?" Neliel asked._

_Harribel didn't respond, instead walking around to the opposite side of the table and peeling the blanket back from the bundle below. Neliel gasped lightly at the naked figure, reaching a hand out to touch a strand of slack blonde hair. She twirled it around her finger and giggled lightly._

"_I look silly as a blonde," she said, touching her own green hair as she looked at the empty _gigai.

"_In the real world," Harribel replied, "you'd stand out too much with your natural hair."_

_Neliel sneered and stuck out a tongue. Harribel remained stoic._

"_So," she said, retracting her tongue, "where do I go first?"_

"_That's the problem. Things have gotten a bit complicated."_

_Neliel remained silent._

"_We still don't know which Shinigami survived, nor where they are located at the moment. Lilynette was captured by the Ninth Division's Captain, so we don't need to worry about him."_

"_So? What's so complicated about that?"_

"_Ulquiorra and Grimmjow have rejoined the Espada."_

_Neliel almost choked. "What?"_

"_I'm still unsure of their motives. Ulquiorra willingly followed Starrk to _Las Noches _and has so far proven himself committed to us. But he defeated Grimmjow and forced him to join."_

"_He needed an ally on the inside," Neliel said._

"_Exactly," Harribel replied. "It's quite obvious. If I can approach them, then we can perhaps use the brewing suspicions of them to draw attention away from me."_

"_Alright then," Neliel said, pulling the sheet back over her faux-body. "I suppose I can wait a little bit longer and see how things go."_

"_Agreed," Harribel said, turning away. "But be careful—Aizen should be regaining control soon. Don't let him know you're alive. He may be looking to replace the Espada we lost today."_

"_Who?"_

_Harribel stopped at the question. She turned, her left hand resting on the doorframe. She looked at Neliel, her teal eyes soft, almost absent._

"_Yammy, Rudobón," she paused and turned away again. "Tesla and Apache."_

_Neliel stood silent as Harribel began to walk out into the hallway._

"_I'm sorry, Tia."_

"_So am I."_

The _garganta _spat them out into Soul Society, Grimmjow in the lead, Neliel just behind him. The sun was almost at the roof of the sky, the light a soft yellow as it bounced off of the whites of _Seireitei. _Neliel blinked as she took in her surroundings: the tall walls, the tiled rooftops, the white spire piercing the sky in the distance. A large set of doors loomed nearby, the number eleven displayed upon them.

"Come on," Grimmjow said, sprinting away.

Neliel followed him down the corridor. She was faster than him, but she didn't know where to go. Soul Society was a vast, sprawling city, filled with alleyways and nooks. It seemed designed to confuse intruders. Grimmjow had spent almost a quarter of a century living in this place—she needed him to lead her around.

They passed another set of doors claiming the number twelve. Neliel's pace slowed slightly.

"Grimmjow," she called, "do the divisions circle around to the first?"

He didn't respond. Neliel scowled and buzzed forward, stepping in front of him, her hand on his chest, stopping him.

"That's fine," he said with a smirk. "This is where I was headed anyway."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Knowing him," Grimmjow replied, looking at the doors, "he'll have come here."

"Aizen?"

He didn't reply.

"Why aren't we looking for Aizen? Do you really want to waste your strength on someone else?"

"Of course he does!"

The two giant doors groaned open slowly, revealing the satisfied smile of Szayel-Aporro Granz.

"You must remember, Neliel," he said with a sneer, "that Grimmjow is nothing more than a beast—his lust for my throat will always overcome his logic. What little he has, of course."

Neliel growled. "Take care of him quickly, Grimmjow. I'll try to find Aizen."

"No," Grimmjow replied, his blue eyes steeled forward. "You should be here too."

"Oh?" Szayel-Aporro snickered. "Did you figure out the identity of my most prized specimen, Grimmjow? Perhaps you're slightly more evolved than I give you credit for."

"What is he talking about?" Neliel asked, cautiously.

The answer came after a crack of snapping fingers. A large _garganta _split open behind Szayel-Aporro, a pair of giant, mutant Arrancar emerging from the darkness. The one on his left held a tall steel box. The beast slammed it on the ground, the base splintering a crater in the tiled floor. With a wheezing hiss, the box cracked open, a line splitting up the middle, two doors swinging slowly outward.

Tesla Lindocruz slowly stepped out of the iron coffin.

Neliel gasped, knowing and hating how much Szayel-Aporro loved her pain. She couldn't help it—his blonde hair was filthy and stringy; his eye patch was gone, revealing a gaping hole where a brown and white orb should have been; he was shirtless, his exposed chest pale, adorned with a cold purple scar that ran up the right side of his torso, and a black wound just below his Hollow hole; his right hand was gone, as was his zanpakuto.

"'He doesn't have his zanpakuto, so he can't release his _resurrección',"_ Szayel-Aporro sneered. "Is that what you're thinking?"

She didn't respond.

"You should know better than anyone," he continued, "how an Arrancar's power need not necessarily reside in the blade. It can hide itself deep inside the soul. After reanimating his corpse, it was only a small step further to access that particular chamber of his spirit."

"You bastard," she growled.

"Lovely," he snickered. "Go on and demonstrate my brilliance, Tesla." His grin grew. "Crush, _Verruga."_

In a flash, Tesla charged, his giant release already having transformed his body. He reached out and slapped her with an open palm, sending her flying through a nearby wall. She leapt out of the rubble, her smaller body barely dodging his massive knuckles as they crushed the stones she'd been laying on. She slipped her zanpakuto from its sheath, cutting into his shoulder as she bounded over him. He grunted and spun around, backhanding her over the rooftops. She crashed into the tiles a few alleys away.

She coughed up a wad of blood. He was quicker than she'd ever seen him. She was faster, that much she knew, but his brute strength made his newfound speed too dangerous to be taken lightly. She stumbled up and stood from the debris, placing a palm on the back of her blade.

"Declare," she began, "_Gamu—_"

Tesla appeared above her, _cero _swirling in his open fist. Neliel aborted her release, buzzing away to dodge the blast. The beam opened a crater in the floor, Tesla's giant fist slamming where her charred body would have been. She appeared behind him, her mouth open as she belched out a _cero _of her own. Tesla caught the attack in his palm, crushing it under his fingers. He lunged forward, fingers once more grasping at her. She slashed down, opening a deep line, mirroring the palm's natural valleys. Her sword continued through to the tiles, taking the thumb off with the cut. The digit flopped uselessly onto the ground.

Tesla howled, deep and bestial. Neliel darted away, making her way to the far end of the alley. She placed her hand up to her zanpakuto once more, speaking the incantation, her body changing into its centaur form as the monstrous warthog in front of her turned around and charged. She gritted her teeth and galloped, her arm reared back, her lance gripped tight. She flung it forward.

"_Lanzador Verde!"_

The spear drilled into the center of Tesla's chest, stopping his lurching run. Neliel trotted past him as her weapon burst out of the back of his shoulder. She caught it and faced him, her hooves clopping on the tiles below as she watched him warily. He turned slowly, facing her, his eye bulging as the hole in his chest—gaping and bloodless—made a second window in his body. He stepped forward, reaching out his hand.

He fell forward, slamming face-first into the tiles. His _resurrección _began vanishing slowly. Without a sword to seal itself into, the Hollow form simply drifted up and into the air like snowflakes in reverse. Neliel also sealed her own sword, walking slowly toward him on two feet, her zanpakuto pointed at him. The tip of the blade hovered over the back of his head, almost touching his blonde hair as the fallen Arrancar tried to push himself up on one elbow.

He craned his neck back, his one eye looking almost dumbly at Neliel. She slowly slid her sword away and knelt down, cupping the side of his face in her smooth palm. His hazy brown eye cleared then, looking at her instead of through her, his pupil dilating as it struggled to stay focused against the midday sun. Tesla Lindocruz pressed his lips together and almost smiled up at Neliel tu Oderschvank. His torso trembled atop his weak arm and his eye rolled up into the back of his head, his cheek falling off of her hand and onto the ground.

She stood and looked down at his body, small and still and silent, and almost smiled herself.

* * *

The sun was a spotlight on _Seireitei. _It cast everything into light—each nook and cranny, every space between the buildings, all inhabitants were exposed by the blinding sphere at the top of the sky. There were no shadows, no place to hide in. Everything was displayed openly and brightly in the harsh sunlight.

Lilynette had never seen the white walls and dark tiles of Soul Society before. She'd been sent to the real world when it had come time to take over _Seireitei, _and her subsequent exile to Africa had again forced her to avoid contact with the Shinigami realm. This place, despite her efforts to protect it, was to her nothing more than a fable. Running through it now, she didn't see what all the fuss was about.

Shuuhei ran ahead of her, taking each turn expertly. They'd come into _Seireitei _through her _garganta, _having already been separated from Lisa and Unohana. Kuchiki Byakuya had already been attacked in Karakura. Shuuhei had immediately taken off, heading purposefully toward one location in the sprawling white city. They'd entered a squadron a moment ago and he was already leading her deep into it. They jogged through a grand courtyard, a large rock garden decorating its center, large boulders sticking out of sloppily combed sand. Shuuhei moved past it without so much as a glance.

Lilynette followed silently, her _pesquisa _searching dutifully for any sign of _him_. She knew he was here. He had to be. But she couldn't feel him at all. She could feel the _reiastu _of the others—Aizen, Ichimaru, the Vizards. She could feel Ulquiorra and Grimmjow and Neliel. But she couldn't feel Starrk. She wanted to find him before he found her. She didn't want to turn a corner and have him be there. She'd always known this day would come. Starrk would eventually discover that she had betrayed him. There was never any way around it. She had to find him first. It was the only way she could think that he would listen to her, to convince him to trust her again.

They ducked into another doorway, finding themselves in a large room with a single desk in the center. Shuuhei let out an exasperated snort and walked around the desk to the far wall.

"Moved right back in, huh?" he asked to no one. "My stuff's all disorganized."

Lilynette suddenly realized that they were standing in the Captain's room of the Ninth Division. Shuuhei's old office. She'd always known that he'd been the captain of this division, but it had only been a title; a factoid of his past. To her, he was simply Hisagi Shuuhei, the man with that wonderful mix of softness and severity. The man she loved. Seeing him stand in this room—the office of one of the highest positions in the universe—and off-handedly complain about someone having moved his stuff while he was gone—made her realize he truly was the man that ruled this section of Soul Society. It left her feeling quite impressed.

Of course, she would never tell him this.

"Here we go," he said, pressing on an unassuming panel in the wall. "Looks like nobody found my secret stash."

"Secret—?" she began. "Shuuhei, what the hell are you talking abou—"

He turned around, lifting a segmented black chain and clasping it snuggly around his neck. Her eyes narrowed at him, her face flat.

"We came all the way here so you could get your jewelry?"

"They're explosives," he said, strapping another onto his left bicep. "They aren't powerful, but sometimes they'll help create an opening." He held out his right arm and a third band. "Care to give me a hand?"

She grinned and took the chain. "Well, aren't you a little trickster?" she snapped, hooking it tight around his arm.

"I prefer to think of it as proper planning."

"Uh huh."

He closed the box and slid it back into the wall. "Okay," he said, sticking out his tongue a little bit. "Let's go."

She suddenly felt better. Seeing Shuuhei in a light-hearted mood would always lift her own. While he was generally a very serious person—a beacon of tranquility and maturity—he had a silly side to him that he very rarely let out. He had a softness and a sense of humor, and these were elements of his personality that she only saw from him occasionally. His goofiness only came out when he was either drunk or very comfortable. Perhaps it was because he was in his old division, because he was back home. Despite the obvious danger, he wasn't worried. Lilynette smiled as she followed him back the way they came. If Shuuhei wasn't worried, she felt as though she could relax. They walked back out into the courtyard.

Coyote Starrk was waiting for them.

Lilynette froze, he nerves exploding in a cold roadmap as she looked at her other half. His hard, grey eyes were looking right at her. Even as Shuuhei slowly slid his zanpakuto out next to her, the _Primera _didn't take his sights from her. The sun dimmed for a moment as a low cloud passed over the square of the courtyard.

"Lilynette," Starrk said, slowly, finally. "Are you with me?"

She trembled. He mouth was dry, dangling open uselessly. She took a single step back, hating the tiny retreat, hating that she couldn't form words, hating that she couldn't explain anything now, after she'd spent so much time preparing for this exact moment. All of her planning had been for nothing.

"She's with me."

Starrk turned his head over his shoulder, looking at Tia Harribel. Her sword was already drawn, its broad blade glinting in the renewed sunlight. Its handle was gripped tightly in her gloved fist.

His silver eyes regarded her carefully and she steeled herself, showing a façade of calm. Inside she was screaming. She hated this. She didn't want any of it to be this way. She looked at Lilynette, the last of her surrogate daughters; the girl's small fists balled, tight near the mid-thigh line where her denims cut off; her mouth a tight line as her shimmering irises stared ahead. Harribel sighed.

She looked back to Starrk. He was still looking at her. She didn't want to fight him and she knew that Lilynette didn't want to either; her drawn sword was only out to send a message that she was willing to fight, willing to stand up for what she believed to be the right course of action. She would gladly slide it back into its sheath. If this entire ordeal could be resolved without bloodshed, she would happily take that route.

Starrk looked back at Lilynette. His eyes slowly closed.

"I see," he said, calmly pulling out his _katana. _

Harribel lunged forward, her blade swinging. Despite her reticence to fight him, she wasn't about to be caught with her guard down. Starrk had been appointed the title of _Primera, _even over Barragan, the former king of Hueco Mundo. Her odds at beating him we low enough; they got significantly lower the more openings she allowed him. The sooner she could get her attacks in, the better.

She swung her blade, a wide, arcing _cero _bursting from its edge. It roared forward, slicing through the rock garden before demolishing the far wall. Starrk appeared within the smoke and debris, his blade having sliced a narrow path through the _cero. _He vanished, buzzing into sight right in front of her. She jabbed her sword forward, firing a bullet of water at him. He vanished again and she spun, swinging, a ribbon of blue energy twirling within her broad zanpakuto. He appeared to her left, slapping her blade with his own. Her arm flew upward with the force of the hit, her midsection exposed.

"_Shit," _she hissed, seeing the openinghe'd made for himself. She watched him spin around to attack, his _katana _lashing out at her stomach as her own dropped down, too late to block, too slow to be anything other than useless.

A spinning circle of black and silver skipped across Starrk's forearm. His hand jerked back, aborting its attack on her. He buzzed away, leaving a trail of blood to fall to the ground. The whirling scythes pulled back, cutting where the Espada would have been, splicing the scarlet cascade in two.

Hisagi Shuuhei caught his zanpakuto and spun it quickly by its chain. He was standing in front of Lilynette, his eyes looking past Harribel, calmly staring at Starrk.

Harribel looked him over: a trio of scars ran down over his right eye; a hodgepodge of tattoos adorned his face; his eyes we small and beady; he was tall and lean, almost to the point of lankiness. Harribel was hard-pressed to see what the girl saw in him.

Still, he had just come to her aid. He was quick enough to follow Starrk's movements and jump into the battle at the right moment. She would be able to use him. She buzzed away, reappearing next to him.

"I assume that's the _Primera_?" Hisagi asked, not taking his eyes off of Starrk.

Harribel flicked her eyes over her shoulder at the immobile girl behind them.

"Yes."

"Then he probably won't let me get the drop on him again."

"No. He won't."

Hisagi sighed. "Then I suppose you should release your _resurrección,_" he said, finally looking at her. "Tia Harribel."

She cast a glance at him. Only now, in this moment of shared desperation, did she realize how much she'd depended on this Shinigami. As important as Lilynette was to the success of her mission, he had truly been her trump card. Had he failed—had he faltered—had he died—then the entire stage of her plan for Lilynette would have failed. Now, here she was, standing next to him, finding a brother-in-arms in a Shinigami captain. She almost snickered.

"And your _bankai,_" she replied. "Hisagi Shuuhei."

He launched forward, his scythes spinning. She almost balked at the motion before realizing that he was giving her an opportunity to release. He'd seen how fast Starrk was. There was an almost unfortunate, yet necessary moment of posturing for a zanpakuto to be released—Starrk could exploit this if given the chance. Hisagi was throwing himself into the fight first, with only his _shikai, _to buy her the time she would need to release her sword safely.

He was good. She'd have to repay the favor.

"Destroy," she said, lifting her sword, "_Tiburón."_

The resulting wave of water surged forward into the plaza. Hisagi and Starrk both leapt into the air, avoiding the tide. Hisagi slung a scythe forward. Starrk ducked to the side, hitting the weapon down with his own. Hisagi retracted it and threw another at the same time. Starrk caught the blade by its handle. Hisagi tried to pull it back, but the Espada held tight.

"You're definitely deserving of the rank of _Prim—"_

Starrk didn't speak or move. His eyes didn't flicker. The _cero _simply materialized from his chest and shot forward.

It slammed into Harribel's massive sword, the weapon of her _resurrección _blocking the blast. Hisagi yanked his scythe back and whispered away, leaving the two Espada alone in the air above the courtyard.

"Starrk," she began. Finding her voice was hard. "You must understand why we're doing this."

He didn't reply, his silver eyes almost lifeless as they watched her.

"Aizen is not your friend," she continued, knowing his philosophy and, almost regrettably, exploiting it. "He's your master. Lilynette is your friend. Neliel and Ulquiorra and Grimmjow. They're more your friends than Aizen could ever be. We're all with you." She swallowed. "I'm with you."

He still made no reply.

"Listen to me, Starrk! Aizen is using you! You're nothing but a tool to him! You have to see this!"

Slowly, Starrk slid his _katana _into the yellow scabbard at his waist. Harribel lowered her own sword, taking a slow, cautious step forward, closing the distance between them. Starrk lifted his hand up and out at her, making a gun with his fingers. Harribel's eyes widened.

"_Cero Metralleta."_

A wall of _ceros _erupted from his fingertip. He dragged his hand sideways, the rapid-fire blasts trailing as they followed his changing aim. He stopped the barrage and vanished with a buzz. Harribel appeared out of the clearing smoke, flying backwards, her charred arms crisscrossed over her face. Starrk appeared directly in front of her, his finger-gun cocked and ready. He looked at her coldly.

"_Cero Metralle—"_

A black tornado suddenly slammed into Starrk, its tip digging at him like a drill, pushing him back through the air. His arms, held safely in front of his face, swatted outward, flinging the sharp cyclone away. It dissipated into the air, his forearms dripping crimson in the noontime sun.

Hisagi Shuuhei stood between the two Arrancar. His scythes had transformed into a pair of black _khopesh_. The tornado reappeared, swirling at the tip of the right hook.

"Sorry about that," he said over his shoulder at Harribel. "This _bankai _takes a little while to coax out."

"There's no need to apologize," she replied, recovering. "If you've got time to say sorry, you've got time to fight."

He chuckled. "Understood."

They rushed forward, Harribel taking the front, Hisagi whispering around to Starrk's back. The _Primera _left his sword in its scabbard, choosing instead to dodge his two assailants. Harribel swung wide, her giant sword arcing at Starrk's face. He ducked, the steaming torrent of water sailing harmlessly over his head, and forcing Hisagi to abort his own attack. Harribel swung again, this time slashing downward. Starrk again managed to dodge, but Hisagi was able to strike with his _khopesh. _A gash opened up in Starrk's back, a black tornado manifesting and drilling deeper into him. Hisagi swung his other hook, the gust shooting out as a narrow cyclone, the needle of wind lancing into the eye of the other storm and stabbing them both through the Arrancar. The twin tornadoes exploded out of his stomach. Harribel buzzed forward, slashing down once more. She opened a valley down his chest, a diagonal of blood joining the hole in his gut. She stabbed forward, a bullet of water striking his arm.

She lunged again at the opening, but Starrk caught her by the throat. He pitched her to the ground, her body crashing into the tiles below. Hisagi whispered forward but Starrk whirled around on him, his fingertip jabbing into the Shingami's chest. Hisagi leapt back, but Starrk fired, engulfing him in the _cero. _

"_Shuuhei!" _Lilynette yelled as Hisagi's smoking body fell to the ground.

Starrk turned and looked at her, but her eyes were only for the Shinigami, tears beading down her cheeks. She didn't look up at him, at his wounds, at his blood that dripped onto the floor. She was only concerned with the Shinigami below.

Harribel appeared in front of him, her massive blade swinging. He dodged the first few strikes, finally stepping back and bringing his arm up to block the sword, relying on his much stronger _heirro _to block the slash. A black chain wrapped around his wrist, yanking it down. Hisagi was below him, his zanpakuto having retreated into its _shikai. _The left scythe was entangled in his arm, pulling it away, completely exposing him to Harribel's attack.

She did not hold back.

Her _Tiburón _slashed across his chest, stretching horizontally as it split across his hollow hole. He stayed silent as he fell backward, blood falling after him. Harribel watched him sink, his eyes staring blankly into hers, and resisted the urge to catch him. He hit the ground and lay still.

"_Starrk_!" Lilynette wailed, finally breaking her trance of immobility and sprinting over to him. She knelt down at his side, murmuring apologies through sobs and tears.

Harribel landed and stood still, watching Lilynette's grief from a painfully safe distance. Hisagi limped up next to her. His sword was sheathed.

"Lil," he said softly, taking a slow step forward. Harribel grabbed his shoulder. He stopped and turned around to face her.

"Don't," she said, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes looking past him and at the two _Primera _on the ground.

Hisagi glanced at Lilynette for a moment longer. He wiped a tired palm over his mouth and turned away, walking out of the division. Harribel watched him leave before turning her attention back, watching as Lilynette brushed Starrk's lank hair out of his blank, open eyes. A single, hot tear slipped down Harribel's cheek. She turned away, stalking out of the courtyard, a growl forming in her throat.

"_Aizen."_

* * *

_**author's note**__  
_

_yeah yeah, requisite apology for long time between updates goes here. real life gets in the way and all that._

_so that's the climax of two very long-running plot points: nel and tesla get resolution; and finally, since the middle of anonymous, harribel, starrk, lilynette, and hisagi confront. :'(_

_thanks as always go out to **jazzpha **for being a champion beta, and the master of the eagle-eye._

_**reviews **are always appreciated.  
_

_**jaso!**_

_ps: each of the two songs in these final (plus the few before this one) chapters belongs directly to one scene. fun times can be had by guessing which ones and why!_

_**the owl in daylight - secret chiefs 3**  
_

_**scow - book of knots**_


	25. The Greenless Wreath : Vile

_**The Greenless Wreath  
[Vile]**_

_ Oh for fuck's sake._

Ayasegawa Yumichika leapt to his right, barely dodging the second swing of the blade. There was already a thin gash above his right eye. The rival zanpakuto tore open another in the nearest wall. Yumichika hopped backwards a few more steps, placing a safe distance between himself and his attacker.

"Consider yourself lucky I only have my left hand." Charlotte Cuuhlhourne sneered. "Sweetheart."

Yumichika didn't reply. He had no desire to resume his decades-old pissing contest with the Queen of all Queens. He just needed to kill him and get going. The sooner he got to Aizen, the sooner everything would all be over. For better or worse. Charlotte had other plans.

"What's wrong, pretty boy? Nothing clever to say?"

Yumichika gripped his zanpakuto, resisting the urge to snort.

"Did you get scared remembering how I almost killed you?"

Yumichika felt his lip curl over a canine.

"Or did my goodbye kiss leave you breathless?"

And with that, Ayasegawa Yumichika very quickly hit his limit.

"Shut up, you old hag!" He rushed forward. "Bloom, _Fuji Kujaku_!"

Yumichika slashed, the four scythes of his _shikai _arcing out at Charlotte. The Arrancar skipped back, blocking the strikes as they flurried at him. Yumichika flipped up into the air, blade over his head. Charlotte raised his to block, but Yumichika whispered away. He appeared behind the Arrancar, and Charlotte whirled around to block again. Yumichika used the predictability of the attack to vanish once more, slashing at his opponent's newly exposed back. A spattering of blood hit the floor below. Yumichika leapt back, his weapon raised.

A hand rested on his shoulder.

Yumichika gasped, looking down at the thick fingers that gripped him. He flashed away, putting a large distance between himself and the new Espada. His left arm drooped at his side. He put a hand to his shoulder—it felt as though the bones of the socket had simply dissolved into dust. He panted slightly, looking across the courtyard at Charlotte Cuuhlhourne and Barragan Luisenbarn.

"Your majesty!" Charlotte gasped, dropping to a knee and bowing his head. "My sincerest apologies for forcing you to come to the battlefield."

"It doesn't matter," Barragan said, his good eye trained on Yumichika. "The sooner we destroy the Shinigami, the sooner we return to Hueco Mundo." He lifted his axe. "Let's start by crushing this ant."

Barragan dashed forward, swinging his zanpakuto at Yumichika's gut. The Shinigami tried to leap away, but his movements were forcibly slowed. He brought his blade up to block, barely saving himself for disembowelment. The heaviness of Barragan's blow sent him tumbling up into the air. Charlotte was there, a wide _cero _already roaring toward him. Yumichika dodged, but his useless left arm was caught in the blast and charred. He righted himself in the air, regaining his composure as Barragan charged him again.

_Shit, _he thought, flashing away, landing in the outskirts of the Seventh Division. Charlotte buzzed into sight ahead of him. He charged Yumichika, the Shinigami ducking the swipe, spinning and throwing out a leg. His body slowed again, and he aborted his leg sweep in time to dodge another strike from Barragan. The axe tore into the dirt, slinging mud up onto Yumichika's face. He skipped back, but Charlotte was already behind him.

A spear of green shot past them, taking a chip of Barragan's axe with it. The old Arrancar buzzed away, reappearing a distance away, but still close enough to attack.

Ulquiorra Cifer stepped between Yumichika and the two Espada. His _resurrección _was already released, black wings spread out menacingly, making the smaller Arrancar look enormous. Another green lance formed in his open palm. He gripped it tightly and stared at Barragan.

"Are you alright, Lieutenant Ayasegawa?" He didn't look over his shoulder at Yumichika.

"I'll be fine," Yumichika replied. He stared at Ulquiorra's back. He hadn't seen the Arrancar since their mission in the real world. Since before Aizen had destroyed the Gotei, since the night Ulquiorra had feigned betrayal. Yumichika knew that he'd been forced to fight Grimmjow and Soi Fon—he knew that the Arrancar had been the one who'd cut off her arm. Looking at his back, wings spread wide, Yumichika's gut sank. He wondered how much Ulquiorra had suffered through to protect Soul Society. He wondered how much he was still willing to sacrifice.

"So you finally show your hand," Barragan snorted, "boy."

"What are you referring to?"

"You know damned well what I'm talking about."

Ulquiorra glanced over his shoulder briefly. "Are you implying that I am aiding the Shinigami?"

"I'm not implying a thing. I am seeing it with my own eyes."

"Your emotions cloud your vision."

"Then what are you doing right now?"

"I detest two-on-one fights." A glimmer of a smirk flitted over Ulquiorra's lips.

Barragan laughed. "Be that way. It won't matter for much longer. I'll be killing you here. Charlotte." He turned to his subordinate.

"Your majesty?"

"If you don't want to turn to dust, you should leave."

"Your majesty!"

The Arrancar buzzed away.

"Shit," Yumichika hissed.

"_Rot," _the Espada grumbled. Yumichika lost the rest as he flashed away, chasing down Charlotte Cuuhlhourne.

He came out of _shunpo _in the courtyard of the Sixth Division, the Arrancar immediately swiping at his head. Yumichika ducked, swinging low at Charlotte's gut. Dodging, the _Octava _buzzed away. He smirked and held his blade up, the early afternoon glinting off its edge.

"Shall we make this quick?"

Yumichika remained silent. He remembered how strong Charlotte was when released. Even missing his dominant arm, the Espada would likely still be more powerful than him. Yumichika knew that he would lose a battle that depended on strength alone. Clenching his jaw, he lifted his zanpakuto. Charlotte smirked.

"Sparkle, _Reina de Rosas."_

Charlotte bolted out of the explosion that followed his release, spearing his hand at Yumichika's throat. The Shinigami barely had time to react. Yumichika swept a hand upward, blades crashing against Charlotte's _heirro, _sending his arm into the air. The Arrancar quickly recovered, gripping the back of Yumichika's head and pulling him closer, ramming a knee into the Lieutenant's stomach. Spittle flew from Yumichika's mouth. Charlotte gripped his hair and flung him into the side of a nearby building. The wall crumpled atop him. Charlotte formed a heart with his hands, sending a massive _cero _into the rubble.

Yumichika flew up out of the smoke, lashing downward with a teal whip.

"Split and deviate, _Ruri'iro Kujaku!"_

The cord wrapped around Charlotte's forearm. The Arrancar sneered as it pulled his arm to his waist.

"You should know this will never put a scratch on m—"

"_Bakudo _number sixty-two," Yumichika said. "_Rikujyou Kourou!"_

The yellow bolts slammed into Charlotte's sides, pinning him to his spot. _Rui'iro Kujaku _slipped off his skin, leaving a series of coiled marks behind. Charlotte growled, his fat lips pulling back as he struggled against the binding spell.

"Why you—"

Yumichika flashed in front of him, his finger pointing into the center of the Arrancar's chest.

"_Hadou _number four," he said. "_Byakurai."_

Charlotte's arm burst from the prison, his wrist hitting Yumichika's, running the lightning bolt through his shoulder instead of his heart. Yumichika leapt back, Charlotte's fingers opening a narrow gash up his chest, his shirt falling open, revealing a rivulet of blood trickling down his stomach. Charlotte rushed at him. Yumichika threw out a hand.

"_Hadou _number fifty-four: _Soukatsui!"_

Charlotte's eyes widened as the pair of orange flames crashed into him, exploding. Charlotte fell to the ground, one knee on the tiles, his chest charred. Blood dribbled from his lips. He looked up but couldn't see through the smoke.

"_Bankai: Jikininki Kujaku."_

Charlotte stood, sighting Yumichika's glowing form through the debris. He smirked, a tangle of black brambles beginning to grow up from the cracks between the tiles. The dome soon closed around them, a large white flower budding and then sprouting near the top.

"You must remember this attack," Charlotte bellowed, the flower above him beginning to glow. "Surely you'd remember my _Rosa Blanca,_ you little bastard!"

Yumichika's form suddenly slashed out a hand, his arm stretching and extending, slicing the thicket of thorns away. Charlotte's jaw fell as the enclosure dropped around him, sprinkling to a pile at their feet. His jaw remained dangled, his breath panting.

"What," he began, his eyebrows knitting tightly. "What the hell are you?"

The form of Ayasegawa Yumichika turned its eyeless face, looking directly at the Arrancar. Charlotte took a step back. Yumichika dashed forward, plunging a glowing fist into his gut. Charlotte Cuuhlhourne's eyes bulged for a moment before rolling up white like a scroll. His _reiatsu _was rapidly siphoned from him. Soon, nothing remained around Yumichika's hand. The glow slowly abated, resealing itself into a sword. Yumichika looked down at the vanishing pile of black thorns that tumbled away in the wind.

"I only beat you," he said, sliding his zanpakuto into its scabbard, "because nothing about you could ever change."

* * *

_ "Are you two serious?"_

_ Hisagi's question hung limp in the air. Kira and Matsumoto avoided his eyes. The song of early afternoon twittered in through the open windows. The room, warm in the late summer, grew hot. Hisagi leaned forward in his chair, placing his carafe of sake back on the table. Kira kept his cradled in his lap; Matsumoto lifted hers to her lips._

_ Ichimaru Gin and Tousen Kaname had vanished only three days earlier, defecting with Aizen Sousuke. It was inevitable that the topic would come up. It was why they were drinking, after all._

_ "You wouldn't understand." Surprisingly, it was Kira who first broke the silence. The accusation almost hurt Hisagi._

_ "How can you say that?" he asked, his normally tepid temperature flaring slightly. "Captain Tousen abandoned me too."_

_ "But Captain Tousen was merely that," Kira said. "Your Captain."_

_ "You—"_

_ "Shuuhei," Matsumoto snapped. "Nobody is denying how important Captain Tousen was—is—to you. But it's not the same as our relationship with Gi—Captain Ichimaru."_

_ "Then what's the difference?"_

_ "Do you really need to ask us that?"_

_ He didn't. He knew their histories with Ichimaru Gin were long and intimate. Gin had found Matsumoto when she was a starving child on the streets of _Rukongai, _helping her survive and nourishing her latent Shinigami powers. He'd been a brother—or a lover, depending on who was asked—to her for the majority of her life. Kira's story was much the same. His family had died when he was young, and Ichimaru, after saving his life—and Hisagi's as well—had taken the young Shinigami under his wing. To the newly rescued orphan, Ichimaru Gin was a perfect father figure._

_ To Hisagi, Kaname Tousen was merely an inspiration. He couldn't compare his relationship with Tousen to Kira and Matsumoto's to Ichimaru Gin. His mind drifted idly to Captain Komamura._

_ "I guess I don't," Hisagi said, picking up his bottle. "At least not for you, Rangiku." He took a swig. "Would you forgive him, Kira?"_

_ The blonde lieutenant looked out the window for a while, his green eyes focused on the orange light outside. He finally turned back to the table. _

_ "Yes." It was almost a whisper._

_ "Would you follow him?"_

_ Matsumoto gasped at the question. Kira kept his eyes trained harshly on Hisagi for a moment longer before softening and allowing a small grin._

_ "Of course not."_

Hisagi Shuuhei stumbled and stopped, shoulder against the corner of a wall. He pressed a trembling hand to his charred chest, gently massaging the pained muscles. His shirt was in tatters, hanging limply against his body. Starrk's _cero _had wounded him worse than he'd initially thought. During the fight, his adrenaline and drive to survive had been high; now his wounds were beginning to affect him full force. He was still in one piece, but he was exhausted. His legs were shaking beneath him, wavering like a drunk on stilts. He pushed himself from the wall, but his elbow caved and he collapsed back into his lean.

_Shit, _he thought. _I could really use a hand right now._

He thought of Lilynette, left folded and crying over the body of Coyote Starrk, hands covered in his blood as she gingerly touched the gash in his chest. Harribel's blade had made the final cut. His mind tried to justify Lilynette's tears this way. The _Tres _Espada's zanpakuto had finished the fight. But it was his own _shikai _that had wrapped itself around Starrk's wrist, pulling it down and leaving his chest open to the blow. Hisagi had no excuse. Starrk's blood was on his hands, too.

Would she ever forgive him?

He tried to rid himself of the thought. He'd fought only because Starrk had refused to back down. Harribel had attempted to convince him to turn against Aizen. Or at the very least let them move past un-assailed. The _Primera _had remained unmoved, staying his ground and fighting. He would have killed them both if he'd won. At the end of it, Starrk was to blame for his spilt blood, not Hisagi.

But Hisagi Shuuhei was not Coyote Starrk.

The thought parched his already dry and burning throat. As much as Lilynette loved him—and as sure as Hisagi was that she did—he wasn't Starrk. He wasn't her literal other half. The twin _Primera _shared a bond so intimate that no outsider could understand it, much less sever it. For Lilynette Gingerback, there was one man in all the universe that she would love over anything—or anyone_—_else.

Hisagi Shuuhei was not Coyote Starrk.

"Captain Hisagi," a mellow voice spoke from behind him.

He turned, the wall still supporting him, to face Kira Izuru. _Wabisuke's _hook dangled down by his ankle, glinting in the afternoon sun.

"Kira," Hisagi replied, forcing himself to stand unaided. He swayed slightly on his feet, gaining composure after a brief moment. He leveled his _katana _at the former captain.

"Please," Kira said, a glimmer of a plea surfacing from his placid face. "You can hardly stand, Hisagi. I can hardly imagine you're able to release your _bankai _right now."

He was correct, of course. Even if Kira was not an expert strategist, it was apparent that Hisagi was at the end of his rope. The fight against Starrk had taken too much of his strength. He was clearly and visibly exhausted, far past the point of fighting an otherwise evenly-matched opponent.

"So you're expecting me to surrender?" he asked. "You should know me better than that, Kira."

"Of course I don't expect you to surrender," Kira replied, lifting his zanpakuto_. _"However, I can still hope that you could see and accept the inevitable."

Hisagi's face darkened. "I thought you knew me better than that, as well."

He knew he needed to be careful against Kira's zanpakuto. While he'd never actually fought against it, he hadn't needed to—the concept behind the blade's special ability was understandable enough. It didn't matter if he'd practiced a dozen times against _Wabisuke. _The only counter to the sword's weight-doubling was to avoid striking it entirely. Even if he could use his _bankai, _Hisagi knew Kira would be able to render it useless fairly quickly.

"Reap, _Kazeshini!"_

Hisagi leapt backwards and into the air, his twin scythes spinning quickly at his sides. He couldn't afford to attack carelessly—one wrong move would cause his _shikai _to lose its speed, which undeniably gave it its edge. He needed to avoid Kira until the perfect opening appeared. Unfortunately, he didn't have much energy to waste. He wouldn't be able to run around forever.

Kira launched himself up into the air after Hisagi. The former captain seemed to be moving effortlessly, almost slowly. Hisagi knew better than to think this was the case—Kira was completely in control of his actions. The smoothness Hisagi saw in the movements of his opponent crystallized how exhausted he himself was.

Kira was on him. _Wabisuke _slashed horizontally at his gut, but Hisagi fell backwards, letting himself fall freely toward the ground, avoiding the strike. He hated how relieved his body felt at the momentary relaxation his freefall allowed. He flipped over and landed on his feet, darting back as Kira landed, his zanpakuto's hook crushing the tiles where Hisagi had just been. Hisagi continued to skip backward, his blades swinging in tight circles, waiting. Kira stood still for a moment, watching calmly. His green eyes followed Hisagi's movements expertly, reading the evasive actions, predicting the next move. He took off, cutting a hypotenuse across the courtyard, aiming to attack where their paths would cross.

_There! _Hisagi slung his left blade forward, low. It spun and hit the tiles, skipping off the floor and up at Kira's shins. The former Captain reacted at the last second, sidestepping the twirling scythe, bringing his arms up and slashing _Wabisuke _down onto the thin handle of _Kazeshini. _The hook caught the other weapon and Kira lifted it, swiftly, multiplying the weight another half dozen times. The scythe fell to the ground, its weight causing cracks in the tiles beneath it.

"_Hyapporankan!"_

Two dozen purple rods rained down on Kira, pinning him to the nearest wall. Hisagi was charging at him from the sky. The weighted blade was still on the ground, its chain severed, the scythe abandoned. Kira looked back up in time to see the second half slung toward him. He slashed upwards, breaking the _kidou _spears with his sword, but the blade still managed to slice into his shoulder. A stream of crimson blood spilled onto the ground. Hisagi retraced his scythe.

Kira leapt up at him, _Wabisuke _raised. Hisagi unclasped the chain around his left bicep, the garment glowing orange as it hung in the air. Kira's placid face crumpled into a snarl as he approached it, the defensive move that he'd seen a hundred times now unavoidable. The bracelet exploded in a crackle and a shower of sparks. Hisagi flashed away, breathing heavily as he reassessed his strategy.

With a buzz, Kira appeared behind him, _Wabisuke_ slashing into Hisagi's back twice, a crisscrossing of gashes cutting into his flesh. He fell, turning his body to face his opponent, knowing the fight was over, but instinctively unable to leave his back unprotected any longer.

Kira watched him fall from behind a grimacing white mask. His golden irises peered out above the frown of Tragedy. Hisagi hit the ground. He tried to sit up, but his weight had doubled. He couldn't budge from where he lay. Kira's masked face appeared over him, looking down and eclipsing the afternoon sky. With a slow and deliberate wipe of his hand, the mask melted away, revealing a passionless face from behind the dolorous mask.

"I commend you, Captain Hisagi," he said, resealing his zanpakuto into a normal _katana. _"Despite the obvious injuries you'd already sustained, you fought with all the skill that I knew you capable of."

"_Shove it_," Hisagi replied, coughing. Blood speckled his paling lips. The weight of his own body made it hard to breathe. He was struggling to stay alive at this point—holding a conversation was beyond him now.

Kira didn't make a face at the insult. He lifted his sword. "Unfortunately, my respect for you—which is as high as it has ever been—cannot outweigh my duties to Captain Ichimaru."

The blade reflected the yellow light as it hovered above Hisagi's neck.

"Goodbye, Hisagi Shuuhei. Your troubled path is finally at its end."

A white and silver pistol touched Kira Izuru's temple for just a moment—just long enough for the hybrid's eyes to bulge and swivel over—before roaring out in a flash of blue. Kira was lost in the light of the _cero, _his body vanishing as the beam tore into the nearest side of the piazza. Hisagi suddenly felt the weight of his body lessen; his breathing came more naturally. He struggled to sit, looking up at whoever was his savior.

Coyote Starrk stood over him, his _resurrección's _fur-covered coat trembling in the light breeze, its pistols glimmering in the afternoon sun. His single visible eye looked down at Hisagi coldly, the silver iris emotionless, framed by two thin chains. Had he come for revenge? Was this _Espada _here to take his life, obliterating those who stood in his way? Hisagi tried to back away, but he fumbled after a weak scramble. He could only sit back on his elbows and look at the _Primera _in all his power.

"_Don't just sit there and say nothing, you moron!"_

Lilynette's voice drifted from thin air. Hisagi blinked.

"What do you want me to say," he asked, lifting one of the pistols to his face, "Lilynette?"

"_Anything!" _the gun spat. "_Don't just stand there with your trap shut when you need to talk!"_

"I guess my rescue was successful, right?" Starrk looked down. "Is there anything else you need me to say, Shuuhei?"

Hisagi blinked again. He was thoroughly confused. Why was Starrk here? Why was he talking to Lilynette through his pistol? Was it some sort of communicator? Where was she? Why was Starrk helping him? He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

"Hold on," Starrk said, looking up and across the courtyard.

The smoke from the _cero _cleared, revealing the burnt body of Kira Izuru. His mask was on, half-shattered. The left side of his face was exposed, the ivory there having shattered already. His cheek and forehead were burned, his eye shut tight against the wound. He stood and faced Starrk.

"I see," Starrk said, stepping forward and placing himself between Kira and Hisagi. "You pulled out your mask to lessen the effect of my _cero."_

Kira waved a hand over the broken segment of his mask, the ivory reforming under his fingertips. His left iris did not shine out from the socket.

"If you want to run, I won't chase you," Starrk said. "I'm ready to sit out for the rest of this war once Shuuhei is safe."

Kira lifted his sword. "I've already performed Captain Ichimaru's final request. I will have no regrets if I die here."

"What a pain," Starrk said with a sigh. "Let's get this over with."

"_Bankai," _Kira said, calmly, his eyes never coming away from Starrk. "_Juuryokuhitsugi Wabisuke_."

His sword dissolved in a deep shade of green, splitting in a dark mitosis to form two separate entities. One was a normal _katana; _the other was a tall, rectangular monolith. A dome of forest-green energy spread out over the courtyard, the dark structure as its center. Hisagi was still not strong enough to escape. The dome soon swelled to engulf him. He was pushed back down to the ground, the field created by Kira's _bankai _pinning his body to the ground.

Starrk stood against the pressure, walking slowly toward the center where Kira stood. He became visibly stressed with each step. Half a dozen rivulets of blood began to course down his chest, the wound from Harribel—which had seemed to have disappeared in his _resurrección—_reopening. With a grimace, he continued forward, the wound opening up fully. Kira remained motionless just behind the monolith.

He fell to his knees as he reached the center, one of the two guns slipping from his hand and clattering to the floor.

Kira took a step forward. "I commend you, _Primera _Espada," he said. "The weight increases exponentially the closer one gets to the center of my _bankai. _For you to have come this far is an almost impossible feat. Your courage is worthy of my respect."

"_Courage?" _the _Primera _asked, the voice a blending of Coyote Starrk and Lilynette Gingerback. "_Don't_ _fuck with me, you coward."_

"Coward?" Kira asked, lifting his sword over the prostrate Espada's head. "I don't know what you mean.

He brought the blade down, but the _Primera's _freefist shot up, grabbing his wrist. Kira's eye widened in his mask as the Espada stood, his arm still firmly gripped. He was tugged closer, the remaining gun pressed into the center of his chest.

"_You wouldn't even take a step away from the center," _the _Primera _said. "_You wouldn't even take a step away from safety."_

Kira looked into the Espada's eyes for a moment before closing his own.

_ "Cero Metrolleta."_

With a deafening roar, a wave of _cero _erupted outward. Hisagi shut his eyes tightly against the harsh blue light. After a moment, his body grew lighter and his breathing eased. He opened his eyes to find the dome of the _bankai _gone. Kira Izuru's body lay crumpled in a heap across the courtyard. It was as still as a shadow. Hisagi looked away from it.

The _Primera _were split once more, Lilynette rushing from Starrk to kneel by Hisagi's side. Starrk stumbled slightly, the gash on his chest bleeding worse after the severance of the union with his other half. Lilynette helped Hisagi to his feet, gingerly taking an arm and slinging it over her shoulder. With apparent effort, Starrk stood as well.

"To save my life," he said, answering Hisagi's unasked question, "Lilynette fused with me. The combined _reiatsu _of our _resurrección _was almost enough to entirely heal my wounds."

"When we were one again," Lilynette said, "All of our thoughts were the same. Starrk was able to feel how much I wanted to help you."

"And how much she loved you, Shinigami."

"Oh, now you wanna run your fat mouth, Starrk!"

Leaning heavily on Lilynette, Hisagi Shuuhei smiled.

* * *

_**author's note**_

_yeah. i know. I KNOW. this semester is killing me. full-time student and two almost full-time jobs; one of which is at night, where i do most of my writing; the other is editor for a creative writing magazine, which saps my creativity an awful lot. so yeah. there's my excuse._

_that said, next semester (my last! woohoo!) will be far easier, and i SWEAR this story will be finished before graduation. also, this was the last troubling chapter. the rest i'm very excited about, as they involve characters who haven't gotten their good fights yet. also grimmjow and ulquiorra's rivalry fights are coming up. so there's that. also more aizen. and shunsui and unohana and lisa. and shinji and gin. so stay tuned._

_also, i'm gonna suggest that you give the whole series a reread. if you have time, of course. i did recently, as i was trying to get back into the story for this chapter. it's really rewarding to watch the whole arc unfold, and it really reunites you with the winding sub plots that the characters are always going through. for me at least. give it a shot._

_implying miura_

_**jta!~**_

_**the greenless wreath - sleepytime gorilla museum**_

_**vile - yuki iwai**_


	26. The Charismatic Smile : Sectile

_**The Charismatic Smile**_

_**[Sectile]**_

Hirako Shinji buzzed into the main courtyard of the First Division. He knew he needed to get away from Aizen to fight, but he didn't want to get too far. After he beat Gin, he wanted to be right back with the rest of the gang. He knew that they should be fine without him for a while, but Aizen's zanpakuto was especially dangerous. _Sakanade _would give the group an important edge against _Kyouka Suigetsu_.

Ichimaru Gin flashed into the courtyard. Shinji narrowed his eyes at his former subordinate. He knew he'd need to end this quickly. Ichimaru was an extremely capable fighter. Though the main threat today was Aizen Sousuke, his second in command was not to be taken lightly.

"Are ya sure it was a good idea to leave 'em with Captain Aizen?"

This was what Shinji was the most worried about. While Aizen was most definitely the master provocateur, Ichimaru Gin cut a close second.

"I'm sure they'll be fine," Shinji said. Ichimaru's grin curved up slowly at the corners. Shinji felt it in his stomach.

"Ya think so?" Gin stepped forward. Shinji immediately moved back and to the left, slowly beginning a circle. Gin stayed still, his face following Shinji almost unnoticed. _Shinso_ was hidden in his robes.

"You think," Shinji began, "that they can't handle _Kyouka Suigetsu_? It's a tricky ability, but—"

"You're wrong."

"What?"

"About _Kyouka Suigetsu."_

"What are you talking about?"

Shinji searched Gin's unwavering smile. It only stretched further.

"Are you saying," Shinji continued, "that I'm wrong about its ability?"

"No," Gin replied, smile growing. "You're wrong in only fearing _Kyouka Suigetsu."_

"What?"

"Think about it," Gin said. "The only reason Captain Aizen got all them Arrancar to follow him in the first place wasn't because of his Complete Hypnosis. They followed him because he was strong. Even without the threat of _Kyouka Suigetsu, _they knew he could kill them if they didn't follow his command."

Shinji growled. Gin's smile stretched further.

"Can't you feel it?"

Suddenly, Shinji could. He felt the _reiatsu _of his Vizard companions flickering dimly in the distance. Hiyori's was almost non-existent. Kensei's was the strongest, and even then there wasn't much _reiatsu _left to feel comfortable about. Had Aizen truly been that much stronger than the rest of them? Had he actually brushed the six of them off that quickly?

"_Shit,_" Shinji hissed, turning his head toward the exit.

He saw the flash out of the corner of his eye. He didn't have enough time to pull his zanpakuto—he was forced to block the sword with his in the scabbard. He pushed his arms up, blocking the blade above his head. The long zanpakuto glinted in the afternoon sun for a moment before vanishing. He lowered his arms, sliding _Sakanade _out of the sheath. A trickle of blood slid down his cheek from his temple.

"Ya shouldn't be so careless," Gin said, "Hirako."

"Collapse, _Sakanade."_

Gin's smile faltered and he shot _Shinso _out at the Vizard. Shinji jumped away, _Sakanade _twirling around his wrist, a pink haze spreading out into the air of the courtyard. He'd never told Ichimaru Gin about the ability of his zanpakuto—about the reality-warping side-effects of the zanpakuto's mist—but judging from his reaction, Gin had learned about it at some point. Shinji grimaced; he'd wanted the element of surprise.

_Shinso_ fired forward once more, the blade crashing into the wall harmlessly. Shinji chuckled from behind Gin.

"It's too late for that," Shinji said, twirling his zanpakuto some more. The faint scent of roses wafted around them. "Somehow you figured out my _shikai. _You should really understand the trouble you've got yourself in."

Gin didn't reply.

"So," Shinji resumed, "while I've got you here, why don't we have a little chat, eh?"

Gin's smile stretched up a bit. "Oh? About what?"

"For starters, where's the _hougyoku?"_

Gin snickered. "_Bankai. Kamishini no Yari."_

The zanpakuto swung out immediately, slicing a wide arc across the sides of the courtyard. Gin twirled on the balls of his feet, twisting his body in a tight circle. It didn't matter where Shinji was standing—the blade was cutting itself across the entirety of the First Division. He brought up his blade, bracing it with his forearm and shoulder, taking the forceful attack straight on. The long blade slammed into him, sending him tumbling into a wall.

The wall's crumbling alerted Gin to Shinji's true whereabouts. The traitor knew that _Sakanade _would turn his senses upside down and backwards—but he'd been prepared for that. He shot _Shinso _at a spot opposite of where he'd seen Shinji land. The spear blasted into the wall in fast repetition, hammering its tip where the Vizard should be lying.

A buzz sounded above him. Shinji appeared, his mask pulled over his face, a fist balled in front of his chest. He aimed it down at Gin, the _cero _beginning to swirl over his clenched fingers. He let the blast roar forward, collapsing the floor of the courtyard beneath Gin's feet. A trail of smoke flew upward from the dust cloud, arcing outward and landing softly across the plaza. Ichimaru Gin emerged from it, his left sleeve singed but otherwise unharmed. Shinji's eyes narrowed behind his mask. He swiped it off.

"Ya get it, right?" Gin asked, looking at Shinji floating upside down above him. "Ya might be able to switch directions on me, but my _Kamishi no Yari _is too fast. I'll just shoot in every direction till I hit ya."

Shinji sighed and resealed his zanpakuto, turning right-side-up and floating down to the cracked tiles beneath them. He kept his sword high, even though Gin had slipped his back into his robes somewhere. Shinji eyed him cautiously.

"Why'd ya wanna know about the _hougyoku?" _Gin asked. "I thought ya knew it was fused with Captain Aizen?"

"I just wanted to make sure, "Shinji said.

"Oh? Ya thought it was a lie all this time?"

"Now who's misunderstandin' who?"

Gin's smile fell a bit.

"What I meant," Shinji continued, "is I wanted to make sure _you _knew where it was."

"What'd change if I didn't?"

"Maybe your readiness to follow Aizen."

"I've followed Captain Aizen this long," Gin sneered. "Why would I stop now?"

"Don't fuck with me, Ichimaru," Shinji said, a smirk playing over his teeth. "I've been watchin' you recently. You ain't exactly been happy with the way Aizen's been running things, have you?"

Gin's smile fell. "Why'd ya go and say a thing like that?"

"I've seen the looks you've been giving him."

"That's not what I meant," Gin said. "I wanna know _why _ya said it. What do ya think you're gonna gain with a question like that?"

"Maybe it was simple curiosity?" Shinji said, not taking his eyes off of Gin.

"Or maybe you were tryin' to convince me to stop fightin' ya."

"Maybe."

"Well," Ichimaru Gin said, taking a step back and dropping into his striking stance. "How silly of a thing for ya to think."

Without so much as a sigh, Hirako Shinji launched himself forward, pulling on his mask. He now knew that this was futile. Talking to Gin was no longer an option—despite the numerous signs of discord he'd seen over the past few months, Ichimaru Gin wasn't about to betray Aizen Sousuke. Their bond was too strong, the hold Aizen had on the younger Shinigami was too complete. Shinji reared back with his sword, aiming at Gin's chest.

_Shinso _launched itself from the back of Gin's robes, the spear no longer hidden as it lanced through Shinji's shoulder. The Vizard's mask shattered as the sword carried him across the courtyard, pinning him to a wall. The zanpakuto retracted, tugging out of Shinji's flesh and leaving him to slump, bug-eyed, to the ground. He couldn't move. His entire body felt numb.

Gin's shadow loomed over him.

"Ya ain't as tricky as ya think," Gin said, kneeling down so Shinji could see his face. "I knew ya hadn't actually released the effects of _Sakanade. _Yer toosmart to do somethin' crazy like that."

Shinji tried to growl, but only a faint hissing whisper was heard. Gin smiled and lifted up _Shinso. _A chip was missing from the center of the blade.

"Ya see this?" Gin asked, his finger tapping the hole lightly. Shinji could only give a wordless response. Gin smiled in the deepening yellow light. "I left this inside ya when I pulled it out. _Shinso _has a powerful venom that can obliterate cells, eating them one by one as they spread through yer body."

Gin stood and turned. "But I ain't gonna do that to ya, Hirako Shinji. I've only left in a sedative. It should wear off in a while, but ya won't be able to move till then."

"_Why?" _Shinji hissed, drool draping over his lips.

Gin stopped. "Why?" He turned and looked over his shoulder. "Because only I am allowed to kill Captain Aizen."

Ichimaru Gin left, his white robes flowing in the fading afternoon. He walked to the nearest exit of the courtyard and stopped, turning his grinning face over his shoulder. If Shinji could, he would have growled. Ichimaru began walking back.

"Although," he said, "I would be remiss if I left you alive and didn't give you some advice." His smile fell as he grew closer. "After all, I'm about to go an' do somethin' silly."

He reached Shinji and kneeled, his lips curving to a serious frown as he looked into Shinji's eyes.

"_Kyouka Suigetsu's _secret," Ichimaru Gin said, his blue eyes looking into Shinji's, "is to touch it. That's the only way to break the hypnosis."

He stood and left the courtyard.

* * *

_ "Captain Kyouraku," Unohana Retsu said softly. "May I come in?"_

_ Shunsui looked away from the paperwork splayed across his desk, regarding his fellow captain with an indifferent eye. She was hanging on the doorframe, a hand reaching across her body to touch it below where her shoulder leaned._

_ "I suppose so," he said, turning back to his desk._

_ "I sent a butterfly for you a few hours ago," she said, taking a small step into the room. She stopped, placing her hand on a vacant chair at an empty desk. "I never received a response."_

_ "Well," he said, "without a lieutenant, this stack just keeps getting taller."_

_ She heard the spite in his voice but hoped she'd only imagined it. She took another step forward and stopped. She couldn't bring herself any closer._

_ "Perhaps," she started, "you would like to discuss the matter of your lieutenant?"_

_ "What's to say?" he asked, flipping over a new page and replenishing the ink on his quill. "I need a new one, that's all."_

_ "But," she began, softly, catching herself in mid-breath, hoping he hadn't heard her. She didn't want to tell him what to do, and she most certainly didn't want to come off as bossy. _

_ "Go on," he said._

_ She sighed. "It's been nearly a month. Almost all of the vacant spots have been filled. Kaname Tousen was just awarded captaincy of the Ninth Division. With the exception of his lieutenant and the captain of the Tenth, there aren't any other spots to fill. Except for yours."_

_ Shunsui turned another page. "I'm aware of this, Captain Unohana."_

_ "You need a lieutenant," she said. "The rest of your duties as captain are suffering because you insist on doing the paperwork that Lis—"_

_ She stopped. He sighed heavily and shuffled the papers into a stack. He turned in his chair. His eyelids were heavy and his face was slack. The stubble that covered his chin and cheeks were starting to grow shaggy and unkempt. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. His eyes turned to the floor._

_ "I know I need a lieutenant," he said, softly. "But I'm pickier than most. I'm not going to just slap an armband on my grandson or anything like that." He looked up. "I'm waiting for the right one."_

_ "And just how long is that wait going to be, Shunsui?"_

_ "You'll all have to forgive my sluggishness," he said politely, though his face darkened. "I wasn't as willing to throw them away as some."_

_ The unmistakable accusation stung her. She had been one of the more vocal voices that pushed for the banishment of the hybridized Shinigami a month ago. _

_ "Captain Kyouraku?"_

_ Unohana turned around. A young girl was standing in the doorway, her head only inches about the middle of the doorframe. A small pair of glasses were snug on the bridge of her nose, and a large book was cradled tightly to her chest._

_ "Ah, Nanao-chan," Shunsui said, standing. "Is it that time already?"_

_He placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and led her toward the main chamber of the division. _

_ "If you'll excuse me, Captain Unohana," Shunsui said, walking past her. "The job of a lieutenant never stops."_

Lisa buzzed into the courtyard, positioning herself next to Unohana Retsu. Kyouraku Shunsui was nowhere to be seen, but Lisa knew better that to assume he hadn't arrived yet. The afternoon was growing, and the shadows of the division were languidly stretching themselves out across the tiles below. Shunsui would be waiting in these shadows, his patience as sharp as a snake's. His _shikai _had already begun her game.

"You don't need to be here," Unohana said, her eyes still focused on their surroundings. "I understand that fighting him may prove too painful for you."

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to?" Lisa barked, a cloud rolling over the courtyard, the newfound shade making the blue of her jeans look black and the black of her tank top like midnight. "I'm not going anyw—"

She leapt up as a black blade erupted from the ground. She and Unohana both flashed to opposite ends of the plaza. Shunsui slowly spread upwards from the shadow, his body emerging as the cloud above vanished. Orange light filled the courtyard once more, glinting off his twin scimitars and staining the white of Lisa's thin hoodie.

Lisa had pulled on her mask without even noticing. With a growl, she wiped it away.

"I see you've tagged along," Shunsui said with a charming smile, "Lisa-chan."

She clenched her jaw to keep from grimacing. Or grinning.

"Are you sure she won't get in the way, Retsu?" he asked, looking at the Captain-commander. She said nothing. Lisa's bottom lip quivered slightly.

"You know she won't put her heart in it."

"Asshole!" Lisa roared, pulling her mask back out and dashing forward.

Shunsui sighed and raised his blades. Her _nodachi _slammed into his right scimitar. She vanished as he swung his left though the air where her belly would have been. She appeared behind him, spinning her _shikai _over her head.

"Smash, _Haguro Tonbo!"_

She brought the back end of the spear down, the heavy golden ball smashing into Shunsui's gut and sending him flying across the courtyard, his pink _haori _fluttering. He flipped and landed on his feet, crouched, and sprang forward at her, his blades crisscrossing in front of him.

"_Bushougoma,_" he called out, a cyclone spinning out and hitting Lisa. The winds roughly circled around her, forcing her to stumble back and twist. She regained her line of sight, but Shunsui had vanished. He reappeared in the air behind her, both scimitars raised high.

"_Takaoni."_

He brought is zanpakuto down, but Unohana had stepped in front of Lisa, blocking the two swords over her head. Shunsui buzzed away, placing distance between himself and the two women he was fighting. He grinned again.

"If she'd hit me with the pointy end of her zanpakuto," he said, looking at Unohana, "I'd be done for by now."

Lisa growled from beneath her mask.

"I thought you hated two-on-one fights," he said. "Is it because you agree with me? That Lisa isn't cut out for this battle?"

Unohana sighed and closed her eyes. She stayed like this for a moment before flashing forward, slashing at Shunsui as she reappeared. He had already buzzed away, however—her zanpakuto only cut through the cloth of his pink _haori _as it fluttered, abandoned as he flashed toward Lisa.

"_Irooni_," he said, cutting forward. "White."

Lisa raised her spear, but his blades cut through it and into her side, immediately staining her white jacket red. The force of the slash sent her careening across the courtyard. A trail of blood and shattered ivory followed her, sprinkled on the floor tiles. Unohana flashed toward her companion, buried under the rubble. She knelt down, placing her hand over the fallen Vizard. Shunsui kept his distance. Unohana Retsu stood and turned, looking at him over her shoulder.

Her normally gentle eyes—comforting even in the midst of battle—were dark and hard. Her eyebrows weren't furrowed—they were simply a pair of straight lines hovered almost lightly over her harsh pupils. She turned to face Shunsui fully, her free hand slowly undoing the braid that she kept twisted over her chest. With a smooth movement, she swept her hair back, revealing a scar in the center of her sternum. Shunsui smirked.

"Well now," he said, "that's a face I haven't seen in a long time." He reached a hand up to his forehead. "The face of the first Kenpachi—Unohana Yachiru."

He tore on his mask—the visage a grinning face not unlike a clown's, a pinch of agony at the corner of the eyeholes. She rushed at him, her long sword swinging out as she neared him. He blocked, cutting at her with his free scimitar. She scraped her blade along the length of his, forcing his arm back in time for her to block forcefully. His left arm also swung away, and she lunged forward, taking this sudden advantage to be on the attack.

He skipped backward as she slashed repeatedly, just barely blocking or dodging her enormously powerful strikes. He crossed his blades over his chest and caught her sword between them. He slashed outward and knocked her back. His mouth opened and a pink _cero _swirled between his teeth. It blasted outward, Unohana's form disappearing in the bright beam's light. She appeared just to the left of the _cero's _trajectory, her left arm darting out. A small lance flew from the sleeve of her jacket. Shunsui barely dodged it, the short spear clipping his mask, cutting a groove into his cheek. A second spike flew at him, hitting and lodging in his left shoulder. He stumbled back and reached up, jerking it out of the muscle. Blood poured down his chest.

"That's a nice little trick," he said, wiping his mask away. "How'd you hide those so well?"

Unohana didn't respond.

"Aw, don't be like that," he continued. "I finally get you to be yourself and you keep so quiet? After centuries of smiling and pretending to be so gentle, you're telling me you aren't going to take this opportunity to speak truthfully?"

A small smile spread across her lips. It made her dark face seem even more ghastly.

"You want me to speak?" she asked. "Then I will speak. These years have gone by in a pleasant haze for me. Even though I was pretending to be someone else, I liked who I was pretending to be. The smile, as fake as it was, had started to feel good on my face. Even when my army was decimated and Soul Society was conquered, I couldn't seem to banish it from my lips."

"And now you have," he said. "For me? I'm flattered."

"It would only be appropriate," she replied. "Watching you cut down your beloved subordinate proved to me that the real Kyouraku Shunsui is no longer here. There is no point for both of us to deny our true selves."

Shunsui frowned and placed his mask back over his face. Unohana gripped her blade with both hands.

"This battle will end with at least one of us being truthful."

She lunged forward, her speed surprising Shunsui as she swung her sword down at the top of his head. He blocked upward with both his scimitars, but her two-handed strike was powerful enough to knock him onto his back. She lurched forward again, hitting the tiles as he barely made it to his feet in time. He darted backward, again missing a slash intended for his midsection.

"_Bushougoma!" _he yelled, throwing a cyclone at her. She cut through it as it attempted to envelope her, the tornado bifurcating and spinning off to her sides. She rushed forward and struck downward, hitting Shunsui across the chest, the tip of her blade coming out of his skin at the hip. He buzzed away, reappearing across the plaza. He was slightly bent over, breathing heavily as his blood dripped steadily onto the ground. His mask began to crumble away, pieces of it drifting away into the air like snowflakes, some dribbling to the ground like salt.

"I always knew you were scary," he said between breaths, his trademark smile slipping over his face. "But this is downright terrifying." He stood up straight, a grimace replacing his smile. "It's time to end this, isn't it, Retsu?"

Unohana's eyes softened slightly. "I'm afraid so, Shunsui."

The wind blew gently through the yard, cooling the afternoon as another set of clouds drifted over them. Shunsui jabbed his blades into the ground, both of their tips bursting from the ground beneath Unohana's feet. She had already flashed forward at him, her blade swinging low, its edge just above the ground, both her fists clenched around the handle as she swung up, cutting another gash across his torso. His left scimitar went flying off across the yard. He gasped and fell backward, hitting the ground.

She stood over him, silently, looking down at his face. He strained his eyes in the sunlight. With a weak smile, he winked at her and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. She raised her sword, the edge glinting in the sun, before lowering it. Sheathing it, she turned and slowly began to walk away.

Shunsui launched himself off the ground at her, his left hand chucking his white _haori _at her. As the robe eclipsed her, he raised his blade into the air, swinging it down through the cloth, slicing viciously into the woman behind it.

His blade stopped. The white cape of his former captaincy slipped to the ground, revealing Yadomaru Lisa. She glared at him over her glasses, the back end of _Haguro Tonbo _held in her left hand, blocking his sword. Her white hoodie was gone. Blood trickled freely from the gash in her black shirt. His left arm dangled at his side, his right suspended in the air. Their eyes met for a brief moment before she squeezed them shut and her grip tightened on the sharper half of her _shikai. _

"_Irooni," _she said, swinging the blade. "Black."

The spear plunged into his chest, almost completely burying inside his ribcage. He let out a wet cough and she pulled it out and stepped back, letting him fall freely. She quickly caught him and eased him to the ground. Unohana Retsu stood behind her, her eyes softly downcast as she watched her oldest friend's blood spread out on the ground. Lisa stayed kneeling, placing a bloodied hand on his stubbly cheek.

His eyes opened and he looked up at her. He smiled.

"Well, this is nice."

"Shut up," she whispered, her eyes growing hot. Unohana closed her eyes and turned away, leaving the courtyard.

"You know," he continued, his voice raspy, "Once you little ones grow up, you're always so dazzling. We old men always need to look away."

"Shut up," she repeated, sniffling.

"But now that I can look, you certainly have grown more beautiful since the last time I saw you."

"You idiot."

He closed his eyes and smiled.

"Ain't that the truth."

* * *

**_author's note_**

**__**_actually not a whole semester between updates this time!_

_kubo could not have made better timing. right as i was preparing myself to write the chapter with unohana and shunsui fighting, he does all that great stuff in canon. (if you haven't been following since the fullbringers, it's time to catch up. holy shit is it ever time to catch up.)(also, why do i feel like the only person who liked the fullbringer arc?)_

_anyhoo, we're nearing the end. seriously, there's only a few more chapters to go. expect it done by june. ish._

_big shout outs to **jazzpha**, as always. homedude knows how to give me what i need to know. check out his stuff._

_and **reviews **are always appreciated._

_3_

_**jta!~**  
_

_**the charismatic smile - tub ring**_

_**sectile - metallic taste of blood**_


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